Ten minutes later we stopped before a tall, gabled house of brick and timber on the near side of Holborn. My companion produced a key from his person and unlocked a heavy door which opened upon a staircase leading to the second story. The first floor was occupied by a shop. Over the window was hung a small stuffed animal, who seemed to be attempting to climb the front wall as the wind swayed him to and fro.
"Enter, Master Ormerod," said Juggins. "You are right welcome. I hope you have none of the country gentleman's scorn for the home of an honest merchant."
"A beggar must not be a chooser," I answered. "But if I were not indebted to you for my liberty I should still be glad to visit a Dorset man who knows how to fight and who remembers the woods of Foxcroft."
"Well spoken," applauded Juggins as he fastened the door behind us and lit the candle in a lantern which was ready on a shelf in the vestibule at the foot of the stairs. "So I might have expected your father's son to speak."
"That is the second time you have called me 'my father's son,'" I said. "Prithee, Master Juggins, had you acquaintance with my father?"
"Bide, bide," he replied enigmatically. "We shall settle all that anon. After you, sir."
And he ushered me up the stairs, which were hung with the skins of many kinds of animals, some of which I did not even know. At intervals, too, were suspended various savage weapons—bows, arrows and clubs—gaily painted and decorated with feathers.
The stairs gave upon a large hall, similarly decorated, and through this we passed into a comfortable chamber which stretched across the front of the house. At one side blazed a warm fire under a massive chimney-piece; candelabra shed a soft glow over thick rugs and skins, polished furniture and well-filled shelves along the walls.
Master Juggins relieved me of my cloak and hat and motioned to a deep chair in front of the fire.
"Rest yourself, Master Ormerod. Presently we shall have provender for the inner man as well."