Chapter Three.
The comfortable Justice.
Mr Justice Roberts sat in his dining-room after supper, with a tankard of ale at his elbow. Had the “pernicious weed” been discovered at that date, he would probably also have had a pipe in his hand; but tobacco being yet a calamity of the future, the Justice was not smoking.
He was, however, very comfortable. He sat in a big leather chair, which rested his portly figure; he had just had a good supper, consisting of a partridge pie and a dish of juicy pears; he had sold a horse that morning at considerable profit; his mind was as easy as his body.
There was only one thing the occurrence of which Mr Roberts would have thought it worth his while to deprecate at that moment. This was, anybody coming to bother him. The worthy Justice did not like to be bothered. A good many people are of the same opinion. He had that evening but one enemy in the world, and that was the man who should next rap at his house door.
“Rap-a-tap-tap-tap!”
“Go to Jericho!” said the Justice to the unseen individual who was thus about to disturb his rest. “I want none of you. Why on earth can’t you let a man alone?—What is it, Martha?”
“Please you, Master, ’tis Master Benden would have a word with you.”
“What can the companion want?” mildly growled the Justice. “Well! let him in, and bring another tankard. Good evening, Master Benden. A fine autumn eve, trow.”