Near at hand was a pillar, round which stood a set of men, some rough, some knavish-looking, with the blue coats, badges, short swords, and bucklers carried by serving-men. They were waiting to be hired, as if in a statute fair, and two or three loud-voiced bargains were going on. In the middle aisle, gentlemen in all the glory of plumed hats, jewelled ears, ruffed necks, Spanish cloaks, silken jerkins, velvet hose, and be-rosed shoes, were marching up and down, some attitudinising to show their graces, some discussing the news of the day, for "Paul's Walk" was the Bond Street, the Row, the Tattersall's, the Club of London. Twelve scriveners had their tables to act as letter-writers, and sometimes as legal advisers, and great amusement might be had by those who chose to stand listening to the blundering directions of their clients. In the side aisles, horse-dealing, merchants' exchanges, everything imaginable in the way of traffic was going on. Disreputable-looking men, who there were in sanctuary from their creditors, there lurked around Humfrey Stafford's tomb; and young Pierrepoint's warning to guard their purses was evidently not wasted, for a country fellow, who had just lost his, was loudly demanding justice, and getting jeered at for his simplicity in expecting to recover it.
"Seest thou this?" said a voice close to Humfrey, and he found a hand on his arm, and Babington, in the handsome equipment of one of the loungers, close to him.
"A sorry sight, that would grieve my good mother," returned Humfrey.
"My Mother, the Church, is grieved," responded Antony. "This is what you have brought us to, for your so-called religion," he added, ignorant or oblivious that these desecrations had been quite as shocking before the Reformation. "All will soon be changed, however," he added.
"Sir Thomas Gresham's New Exchange has cleared off some of the traffic, they say," returned Humfrey.
"Pshaw!" said Antony; "I meant no such folly. That were cleansing one stone while the whole house is foul with shame. No. There shall be a swift vengeance on these desecrators. The purifier shall come again, and the glory and the beauty of the true Faith shall be here as of old, when our fathers bowed before the Holy Rood, instead of tearing it down." His eye glanced with an enthusiasm which Humfrey thought somewhat wild, and he said, "Whist! these are not things to be thus spoken of."
"All is safe," said Babington, drawing him within shelter of the chantry of Sir John Beauchamp's tomb. "Never heed Diccon—Pierrepoint can guide him," and Humfrey saw their figures, apparently absorbed in listening to the bidding for a horse. "I have things of moment to say to thee, Humfrey Talbot. We have been old comrades, and had that childish emulation which turns to love in manhood in the face of perils."
Humfrey, recollecting how they had parted, held out his hand in recognition of the friendliness.
"I would fain save thee," said Babington. "Heretic and rival as thou art, I cannot but love thee, and I would have thee die, if die thou must, in honourable fight by sea or land, rather than be overtaken by the doom that will fall on all who are persecuting our true and lawful confessor and sovereign."
"Gramercy for thy good will, Tony," said Humfrey, looking anxiously to see whether his old companion was in his right mind, yet remembering what had been said of plots.