How long I might have slept I know not, but the pallid sun that
strove to pierce the fog-reek proclaimed high noon when Master
Juggins waked me. He would not listen to my protestations of regret,
but directed my attention to the pile of clothes he carried over his
arm.
"See, we shall make a 'prentice lad of you," he said. "I have a
youth downstairs of about your build, and these are his Sunday
clothes."
"But what will he do?" I asked.
"Why, purchase new gear with a right merry heart."
"And must I in truth wear these!" I demanded with some disgust as I
felt their coarseness of texture.
"Aye, indeed, Master Harry."
His tone sobered.
"I have been abroad since rising," he continued, "and forgive me if I
say 'twas well for you we met last night. Your cousin is come up to
London, frantic with fear lest you should succeed in replacing him,
and he hath pulled wires right and left, so that all are convinced
you are here for no less a purpose than the murder of the King."