Poor Thomas, accustomed to these conjugal amenities, turned meekly round and trotted after his Tabitha, who with her big basket took the lead, and conducted him in a few minutes to the door of the gaol.
“Good den, Master Porter! We be some’at late for visitors, but needs must. Pray you, may we have speech of Mistress Benden, within here?”
The porter opened the wicket, and they stepped inside.
“You’re nigh on closing time,” said he. “Only half-an-hour to spare.”
“I can do my business in half-an-hour, I thank you,” replied Tabitha, marching across the courtyard.
The porter, following them, unlocked the outer door, and locked it again after them. To the gaoler who now received them they repeated their errand, and he produced another key, wherewith he let them into the women’s prison. Alice and Rachel were talking together in the corner of the room, and Tabitha set down herself and her basket by the side of her sister-in-law.
“Good even, Alice!” she said, leaving her husband to see after himself, as she generally did. “We’re a bit late, but better late than never, in especial when the ship carrieth a good cargo. Here have I brought you a couple of capons, a roll of butter, a jar of honey, and another of marmalade, a piece of a cheese, a goose-pie baken with lard, a pot o’ green ginger, and nutmegs. I filled up with biscuits and reasons.”
By which last word Mistress Tabitha meant to say that she had filled the interstices of her basket, not with intelligent motives, but with dried grapes.
“I con you right hearty thanks, Sister Tabitha,” said Alice warmly, “for so rich provision! Verily, but it shall make a full pleasant change in our meagre diet; for my friend here, that hath been a mighty comfort unto me, must share in all my goods. ’Tis marvellous kindly in you to have thus laden yourself for our comforts. Good even, Tom! I am fain to behold thee. I trust you and all yours be well?”
“Maids lazy, Father ’plaining of pains in his bones, Christabel as is common, Roger well, Mary making o’ candles,” replied Tabitha rapidly. “As for yon ill-doing loon of a husband of yours, he’s eating cakes and supping ale at the Chequers Inn.”