The Panchronicon

  CHAPTER XI

  THE FAT KNIGHT AT THE BOAR'S HEAD

  When Francis Bacon, having evaded Rebecca's mistaken pursuit, reachedthe deserted grove in which the Panchronicon still rested, he found tohis dismay that Droop was absent.

  Copernicus was not the man to let the grass grow under his feet, and hehad set off that morning with his letter of introduction to seek SirPercevall Hart, the Queen's knight harbinger.

  He had determined to begin with moderation, or in other words to ask atfirst for only two patents. The first of these was to cover thephonograph. The second was to give him a monopoly of bicycles.

  Accordingly he set forth fully equipped, carrying a box of records overhis shoulder by a strap and his well-oiled bicycle trundling alongbeside him, with a phonograph and small megaphone hung on thehandle-bar. He thought it best to avoid remark by not riding his wheel,being shrewdly mindful of the popular prejudice against witchcraft.Thanks to his exchange with Master Bacon, he feared no comment upon hisgarb. A pint flask, well filled, was concealed within his garments, andthus armed against even melancholy itself, he set forth fearlessly uponhis quest.

  Droop had set out from the Panchronicon in the middle of the forenoon,but, as he was obliged to distribute a large number of photographs amonghis customers before going to London, it was not until some time afterBacon had crossed the river and Rebecca had departed with the Queen thathe found himself on London Bridge.

  On reaching the London side, he stood awhile in the ill-smelling streetnear the fish markets gazing about him in quest of someone from whom hemight ask his way.

  "Let's see!" he mused. "Bacon said Sir Percevall Hart, Boar's HeadTavern, Eastcheap. First thing to find is Eastcheap, I guess. Hullothere, forsooth!" he cried, addressing a baker's boy who was shufflingby with his basket on his head. "Hullo there, boy--knave! What's theshortest cut to Eastcheap?"

  The lad stopped and stared hard at the bright wheels. He seemed thinkinghard.

  "What mean you, master, by a cut?" he said, at length.

  "Oh, pshaw--bother!" Droop exclaimed. "Jest tell me the way toEastcheap, wilt thee?"

  The boy pointed straight north up New Fish Street.

  "Eastcheap is yonder," he said, and turned away.

  "Well, that's somethin'," muttered Droop. "Gives me a start, anyway."

  Following the route pointed out, he retraced the very course along whichearlier in the day Rebecca had proceeded in the opposite direction,thinking she saw him ahead of her. By dint of making numerous inquiries,he found himself at length in a region of squalid residences andsecond-rate shops and ale-houses, in the midst of which he finallydiscovered the Boar's Head Tavern.

  The entrance was by a dark archway, overhung by the upper stories of thebuilding, down which he could see a reddish glow coming and going, nowfaint now bright, against the dead wall to the left. Passing cautiouslydown this passage, he soon found that the glow was projected through ahalf-curtained window to the right, and was caused by the dancing lightof a pleasant fire of logs within.

  He thought it wise to reconnoitre before proceeding farther, and,peeping through the small leaded panes, he found he could survey theentire apartment.

  The room into which Droop stood gazing was the common tap-room of theinn, at that moment apparently the scene of a brisk altercation.

  To the left of the great brick fireplace, a large pewter mug in hisright hand, an immensely fat man was seated. He was clad as became acavalier, although in sober colors, and his attitude was suggestive ofdefence, his head being drawn far back to avoid contact with a closedfist held suggestively before his face. The fist was that of a womanwho, standing before the fire with her other hand resting on her hip,was evidently delivering her sentiments in no gentle terms.

  A long table, black with age and use, stood parallel to the right-handwall, and behind this three men were sitting with mugs before them,eying the disputants with evident interest. To the left a large spacewas devoted to three or four bulky casks, and here an aproned drawer satastride of a rush-bottomed chair, grinning delightedly and exchangingnods and winks from time to time with an impish, undersized lad who layon his stomach on a wine-butt with his head craning forward over theedge.

  Only an occasional word reached the watcher at the window, but amongthese few he recognized a number which were far more forcible thandecent. He drew back, shook his head, and then slowly returned to thedoor and looked up.

  Yes--he had made no mistake. Above his head there swung the sign of theBoar's Head. And yet--was it likely or even possible that Sir PercevallHart could make such a vulgar haunt as this his headquarters? SirPercevall--the Queen's harbinger and the friend of the Prime Minister!

  With a sinking heart and a face clouded with anxiety, Droop propped hisbicycle against the wall within the passage and resolutely raised theheavy latch.

  To his surprise, instead of the torrent of words which he had expectedto hear when he opened the door, complete silence reigned as heentered. The fat man in the chair by the fire was still leaningbackward, but his tankard was now inverted above his head, and a glanceshowed that his companions at the long table were similarly employed.

  Copernicus turned about and closed the door very carefully, unwilling tobreak the profound silence. Then he tiptoed his way to the fire, andleaning forward rubbed his hands before the crackling logs, nervouslyconscious of six pairs of eyes concentrated upon his back. Droop was notunfamiliar with the bar-rooms of such a city as Boston, but he found anElizabethan tavern a very different sort of place. So, although alreadywarmer than desirable, he could only stand half bent before a fire alltoo hot and wonder what he should do next.

  Finally he mustered courage enough to turn about and survey withshamefaced mien the tavern interior. As he turned the four guestsdropped their eyes with painful unanimity and the drawer fell toscouring a pewter mug with his apron. Only the boy perched on the caskkept his eyes obstinately fixed on the stranger.

  Droop now noticed for the first time that behind the casks there was asnug recess containing a table and two well-worn benches, evidentlyintended for the entertainment of guests desirous of a _tete-a-tete_.

  Thither he at once directed his steps, and seating himself upon one ofthe benches, looked about him for a bell. He could hear the three men atthe long table whispering busily, and could see that they had theirheads together.

  The fat man stirred in his chair with a rolling motion.

  "Drawer!" he called.

  "Here!" cried the drawer, bustling up to the fire.

  "A second tankard of that same sack, boy. Bustle, bustle!"

  "I must first to my mistress, sir," was the reply. "Nothing for credit,sir, save by permission."

  "A pox upon thee!" growled the thirsty man. "On thee and thy mistress,too!"

  Muttering and shaking his head, the ponderous guest stretched forth hislegs, closed his eyes, and composed himself for a nap.

  The drawer tipped a wink to the grinning pot-boy on the cask, and thenbustled over to Droop's table, which he proceeded to wipe vigorouslywith his apron.

  "Did you call, sir?" he said.

  "Yes," said Copernicus. "Bring me a schooner of light lager."

  The drawer's busy apron hand stopped at once and its owner leaned hardon the table.

  "What command gave you, sir?" he said.

  "Marry--a schooner of lager--light, forsooth!" Droop repeated.

  "Cry you mercy, sir," said the drawer, straightening up, "this be theBoar's Head Tavern, sir. What may your worship require by way of foodand drink?"

  "These old-timers beat all creation for ignorance," muttered Droop.Then, looking up into the man's face, he called for one drink afteranother, watching hopefully for some sign of answering intelligence.

  "Give me a Scotch high-ball. No? Then a gin sling. Hot Tom and Jerry,then. Marry, an egg flip, i' faith! Ain't got 'em? Get me a brandysmash--a sherry cobbler--a gin rickey--rock and rye--a whisky sour--amint julep! What! Nothin'? What in thunder _do_ ye sell, t
hen?"

  The drawer scratched his head, and then grinned suddenly and gave ventto a dry laugh.

  "Well said! Well said, master! The jest is a merry one--call me a Jewelse!" Then, sobering as briskly as he had taken to laughing: "Will youhave a cup of sack, master, to settle the stomach after fasting--or adrop of Canary or Xeres or a mug of ale, perchance----"

  "That's right, by my halidom!" Droop broke in. "Bring me some ale,waiter."

  The drawer whisked away and returned in a few moments with a huge powertankard topped with a snowy foam.

  "That's the stuff!" said Droop, smacking his lips. He half-emptied thebeaker, and then, turning to the drawer:

  "Can you tell me," he said, "if I can find a man by the name of Harthere--Sir Percevall Hart?"

  "Sir Percevall," said the drawer, in an undertone. "Why, there's yourman, master. The fat knight snoring by yon fire."

  "What!" exclaimed Droop. "The man who--" He broke off and stared awhilein silence. Finally, shaking his head: "Never would have thought it!" hesaid.

  Copernicus lapsed into meditation and the drawer withdrew. At lengthDroop roused himself with a shake.

  "Won't do no good to set here doin' nothin'," he muttered. Then,swallowing the remainder of his ale, he drew his letter of introductionfrom his pocket and walked back to the fireplace.

  The knight, who was not sleeping very soundly, slightly opened one eye,and to his surprise, beheld a letter which Droop held almost under hisnose.

  Sitting up straight and now fully awake, Sir Percevall stared first atCopernicus and then at the letter.

  "A letter!" he exclaimed. "For me?"

  "Verily, yea," Droop replied, very politely.

  The knight opened the letter slowly and turned so that the light from awindow fell full upon it.

  "What's here!" he exclaimed. "This direction is to my Lord Burleigh."

  "Yep--oh, yes, yea!" said Droop, confusedly. "But you was to readit--peruse it, you wot--Bacon said as much. He said you knew the lordand could take me around, forsooth, and sorter interduce me, ye see."

  With leisurely gravity, Sir Percevall slowly read the note, and then,returning it with a polite gesture:

  "This letter hath reference to certain monopolies," he said. "My cousinBacon doth write in high terms of your skill and high merit,Master--Master----"

  "Droop, sir. Copernicus Droop's my name."

  "Ah, yes! And the service you require--? I beg your indulgence, but,sooth to say, being nigh starved of late in this tavern of ill repute,my poor wits have grown fat. I am slow of apprehension, MasterWither----"

  "Droop, sir--Droop."

  "Nay--cry you mercy--Master Droop."

  "Why, now, Sir Percy," said Copernicus, with oily grace, "ef youwouldn't mind, I'd be proud ef you'd set down over yonder, perchance,and have a glass with me. We'd be more private then, and I could makethis hull business clear to ye. What say ye, sir?"

  "Why, there's my hand, Master Dupe--Droop," said the knight, his facebrightening mightily. "Five yards are a mile for a man of my girth,Master Droop, but praise God such words as these of yours cheer my heartto still greater deeds than faring a mile afoot."

  Slowly and painfully the corpulent knight drew himself to his feet, andwith one hand bearing affectionately but heavily on Droop's shoulder, heshuffled over to the recess and seated himself.

  "What ho, there! Drawer!" he shouted, as soon as they were comfortablydisposed face to face.

  "Anon, sir, anon!" came the familiar reply, and the drawer, who had justserved two new guests at the long table, now hurried over to the nookbehind the casks.

  "A quart of sack, villain!" said Sir Percevall.

  "And for you, sir?" said the drawer, turning to Droop.

  "Yes, yea, bring me the same." He had no idea what sack was, but he feltthat in all probability it was a mild beverage, or no one would order aquart at once.

  "And this same letter, now," Sir Percevall began. "To warn you truly,friend, this matter of monopolies hath something of an ill savor in thepublic mind. What with sweet wines, salt, hides, vinegar, iron, oil,lead, yarn, glass, and what not in monopoly, men cry out that they arerobbed and the Queen's advisers turn pale at the very word."

  He interrupted himself to give his attention to the wine which had justbeen placed before him.

  "To better acquaintance!" he said, and the two drank deep together.

  Droop smacked his lips critically and turned up his eyes for greaterabstraction. The wine was pleasant to the palate, he thought,but--well--it wasn't whiskey.

  "Of this letter, now," the knight resumed, anxious to discover his ownadvantage in Droop's plans. "'Twere vain for you, a stranger to theLord High Treasurer, to accost him with it. A very circumspect andpragmatical old lord, believe me. Not every man hath admittance to him,I promise ye. As for me, why, God 'ild you, man! 'twas but yesterday afortnight Burleigh slapped me o' the shoulder and said: 'Percevall, yegrow fat, you rogue--on the word of a Cecil!' Oh, trust me, MasterDroop; my lord much affects my conversation!"

  "Is that a fact?" said Droop, admiringly. "It certainly ain't done yourconversation any harm to be affected that way."

  "Oh, then, an you jest, Master----"

  "Not a mite!" exclaimed Copernicus, anxiously. "Verily, nay, friend.Trust me--never!"

  "Or never trust thee!" quoth the knight, with a twinkle in his eye.

  Droop took refuge in his wine, and Sir Percevall imitating him, the twoemptied their cups together and sighed with a simultaneous content.

  "That's not bad swizzle," said Droop, patronizingly. "But, as fer me,give me whiskey every time!"

  "Whiskey!" said the knight with interest. "Nay, methought I knew everyvintage and brew, each label and brand from Rhine to the Canaries. Butthis name, Master Droop, I own I never heard. Whiskey, say you?"

  "Well, now, do tell!" said Droop, drawing forth his flask ofnineteenth-century rye, "never heerd o' whiskey, eh? Never tasted it,either, I s'pose?"

  "How should I taste it, man, not knowing its very name?"

  "Verily, thou sayest sooth!" said Droop. Then, glancing all about him:"Ain't there any smaller glasses 'round here?"

  "Drawer--ho, drawer, I say!" roared the knight.

  "Here, sir--here! What is your pleasure?"

  "The pleasure is to come, rogue! Fetch hither two of yon scurvy glassthimbles you wot of. Hostess calls them cordial glasses. Haste now!Scramble, varlet!"

  When the two small glasses were brought, Droop uncorked his flask andpoured each full to the brim.

  "Th' ain't any seltzer in this one-hoss town," he said, "so I can't makeye a high-ball. We'll jest hev to drink it straight, Sir Knight. Here'sluck! Drink hearty!" and with a jerk of hand and head he tossed thespirits down his throat at a gulp and smacked his lips as he set downhis glass.

  Sir Percevall followed his friend's movements with a careful eye andimitated him as exactly as possible, but he did not escape a coughingfit, from which he emerged with a purple face and tear-filled eyes.

  "Have another?" said Droop, cheerfully.

  "A plague on queezy gullets!" growled the knight. "Your spirits soughttwo ways at once, Master Droop, and like any other half-minded equivocaltransaction, contention was the outcome. But for the whiskey, mindyou--why, it hath won old Sir Percevall's heart. Zounds, man! Scarce twofingers of it, and yet I feel the wanton laugh in me a'ready. Goodfellows need good company, my master! So pour me his fellow! So--so!"

  They drank again, and this time the more cautious knight escaped allpainful consequences.

  "Look you, Master Droop," said the delighted old toper, leaning backagainst the wall as he beamed across the table at his companion, "lookyou! An you have a butt of this same brew, Sir Percevall Hart is yourslave, your scullion, your foot-boy! Why, man, 'tis the elixir of life!It warms a body like a maid's first kiss! Whence had you it?"

  "Oh, they make it by the million gallons a year where I come from,"Droop replied. "Have another. Take it with hot water and sugar--I meanhoney."
/>
  The advice was followed, and while they sipped the enlivening decoction,Copernicus explained his plans touching the patenting of his phonographand bicycle. When he concluded his relation, the knight leaned back andgazed at him with an affectionate squint.

  "See, now, bully rook, if I take you," he said. "It behooves you to havefair inductance at court. For this ye come to Sir Percevall Hart, herMajesty's harbinger and--though he says so himself--a good friend toCecil. Now, mark me, lad. Naught do I know or care of thy 'funny craft'or 'bicycle.' Master Bacon is a philosopher and you have here hiscertificate. Say I well--what?"

  He paused and Droop nodded.

  "Good--and so to better. Naught care I, or know I, or should or could Itrow, being a man of poetical turn and no base mechanic--no offencemeant to yourself, Master Droop. But this I do say--and now mark mewell--I say--and dare maintain it (and all shall tell ye that is a fairmaintenance and a good champion), that for a sure and favorableinductance to the favors of the court there's no man living takes thewall o' Percevall Hart, Knight!"

  "Bacon told me as much," said Droop.

  "And he told thee well, my master. Frank is a good lad, though vain, andhis palm itcheth. So to terms, eh? Now, methinks 'twere but equity andgood fellowship for two such as we are to go snacks, eh? Cut through themiddle--even halves, bully--even halves! How say you?"

  "You don't mean," said Droop, "that you'd want half the profits, jestfer introducin' me to Lord What's-is-name, do ye?"

  "With a small retainer, of course, to bind fast. Say--oh, a matter oftwenty gold angels or so."

  "Why, blame your confounded overstretched skin!" cried Droop, hotly,"I'd sooner drop the hull darn thing! You must take me fer a nat'ralborn fool, I guess!"

  "Nay, then--'twixt friends," said the knight, soothingly. "'Twixtfriends, say we remit one half the profits. Procure me but the angels,Master Droop, and drop the remainder."

  "As many devils sooner!" said Droop, indignantly. "I'll take my pigs toanother market."

  He rose and beckoned to the drawer.

  "Nay, then, why so choleric!" pleaded the knight, leaning anxiouslyacross the table. "What terms do ye offer, Master Droop? Come, man, givea show of reason now--name your terms."

  It was to this point that Copernicus had counted upon bringing thehelpless knight, who was far from a match for a Yankee. He had drivenhis own bargain with Bacon, and he now resolved that Bacon's friendshould fare no better. In pursuit of this plan, he moved from his seatwith a sour face.

  "I don't feel much like takin' up with a man who tries to do me," hegrumbled, shaking his head and beckoning again to the drawer.

  "Do thee, man--do thee!" cried the knight. "Why, an I do thee good, whatcause for grief?" Spreading forth his two fat hands, he continued:"Spake I not fairly? An my offer be not to thy taste--say thine own say.What the devil, man; must we quarrel perforce?"

  Droop scratched his head and seemed to hesitate. Finally he slapped thetable with his open hand and cried with a burst of generosity:

  "I'll tell ye what I _will_ do. I've got two quart bottles of that sameripe whiskey, and I'll give 'em both to ye the day the Queen gives me mypatents!"

  "Nay--nay!" said the knight, straightening himself with dignity. "'Twerea mere fool's prank at such terms!"

  "Oh, all right!" cried Droop, turning away.

  "Hold--hold! Not so fast!" cried Sir Percevall. But Copernicus merelyslapped his hat on his head and started toward the door.

  Sir Percevall leaned over the table in flushed desperation.

  "Listen, friend!" he cried. "Wilt make a jolly night of it in thebargain?"

  Droop stopped and turned to his companion.

  "D'ye mean right now?"

  A nod was the reply.

  "And you'll take my offer if I do?"

  The knight sat upright and slapped the table.

  "On my honor!" he cried.

  "Then it's a go!" said Droop.