"What was that?" exclaimed all the circle; "give us that tale, Master Tyler, a-fore we parts."

"Vell, then," said Tyler, touching his empty glass, "let's prepare for it." Upon this hint, one of the party, the host of the Jolly Drummer himself, rapped the table with his broad fist and shouted "Hollo there," which process brought upon the scene "Mary, the Maid of the Inn," whom Master Tyler requested to fill his glass, and "do the same for that gem'man opposite." She accordingly retired with the empty glasses, and as she is now out of the room, which we know to be the case from the whir-r-r-r bang! of the weighted door, we will take the opportunity before she comes back of describing the house and company.

The Jolly Drummer was a small public-house at the extreme end of a little scattered village; its situation on the verge of an extensive heath, and detached from the other cottages, would have given it a lonely appearance but for its background of a few trees, and two or three old stunted oaks before the door, between two of which was the horse-trough, and from the branches of the third swang the old and weather-beaten sign, creaking to and fro in the wind; the hay scattered about the trough, or whirled in air by the wind, and the wicker crate which stood at the door by the side of the mounting steps, together with a pail and mop, gave indications of a pretty-well frequented house. If anything more was wanting to establish the fact, on this night, besides two or three light carts, a heavy stage-waggon might be seen rearing its giant bulk against the dark sky with its shafts erect, and the unlit stable-lantern still skewered in the front.

The interior presented a more lively and comfortable appearance, at least in the room with which we are principally concerned. Here a fire of a few coals, overlaid with large logs, crackled and spluttered in the grate round which the party was assembled, two of whom we have already introduced. Upon the same high-backed form or settle, on which Master Tyler sat, were seated three other men, two of whom belonged to the waggon without, and the third was a small short man, who said little, but seemed to imbibe all Master Tyler uttered with great reverence. On the opposite side of the fire, besides the little man in the Windsor chair, were two others, the one the blacksmith, and the other the cobbler of the village. Sitting opposite to the fire, and so as to complete the circle round it, sat the stout landlord himself, looking round at his guests and attending to their wants (as we have seen) with the consciousness of being "well-to-do" in the world. On the little triangular table stood a quart mug "imperial measure;" a brass candlestick, bent through age, holding a thin tallow candle: a large pair of snuffers, lying by their side bottom upwards, was scored with the marks of a bit of chalk, half-crushed among the tobacco ashes, and a dirty pack of cards, gave the observer every proof that the two waggoners had but lately been engaged in the favourite game of "all-fours."

The room in which this company had met was low and square, boasting as furniture a few Windsor chairs, a square deal table edged with iron, and supported by trussel-like legs, in addition to the before-mentioned little triangular one, another of which latter description was seen in a distant corner, a dresser standing against the wall opposite the fire, and a tall cupboard by its side; the window on the left side of the room was shaded by a checked curtain, which waved mournfully under the influence of the gusts of wind that managed to find their way through the closed lattice. A few such pictures as "the lovely florist," and the "happy fruiterer," with rounded limbs and flowing drapery, painted with bright colours on glass, decorated the walls, and the mantel-shelf was decked with the usual ornaments of peacocks' feathers, brass candlesticks, tin stands for pipe-lighters, flour and pepper-boxes, a coffee-pot, and two lines painted on the wall recording, with the day and date, how "Thomas Swipes, Jacob Swillby, and James Piper, drank at one sitting in this room twelve quarts of ale."

Such was the room and its contents on the 31st March, 18—, and a blowing night it was. The whir-r-r-bang again of the door announces Mary to have returned with the replenished glasses, and as she is retiring she is arrested by the voice of Master Tyler, who calls out to her—"Vait a bit, Mary, I knows you're fond of a tale; you may as vell sit down and listen, for I dare say you never heerd a better, tho' I says it, and that's a fact—that's to say, if the company has no objections," added Tyler. They all seemed to agree with Master Tyler in admitting Mary into the circle, and accordingly made room for her next to her master, the host. All these preliminaries being arranged, Master Tyler having just tasted his new glass of grog, thus began:—

"Let me see, it vas about the year 1817 ven I fust vent to be ostler at the Vite Swan, Stevenage, for I vas a ostler vonce, gem'men, that I vas; you remember the time, Juggles?" continued he, addressing the little man opposite (who answered with an "ay," and a nod of the head). "Old Dick Styles used to vork the Old Highflier thro' Stevenage at that time, and he vos as good a coachman as here and there vun; but howsumever, that ain't got nothink to do vith my story. I vas a-saying it was my fust night in the yard, and in course I had to pay my footin'. Vell, old Tom Martin was the boots; he as come arterwards to our place, you know, Juggles?" ("Ay," answered the little man again, as he looked meditatingly at the fire;) "and me and him," continued Tyler, "sat up in the tap a-drinking and smoking and that, and a precious jolly night of it ve had, I can tell you! There vas Peter Scraggs, and as good a chap he vos as ever stepped, and vun or two more good jolly coves as you'd vish to see; vell, ve got a chaffin, and that like, ven Tom says to me, says he, 'Tyler,' ses he, 'you arn't been here long,' ses he, 'but maybe you've a heerd o' that old chap up yonder.' 'Vot old chap?' ses I. 'Vhy him on his beam-ends,' ses he a-laughing, and all the t'others laughed too, for I heerd arterwards that that vas his joke. 'Veil,' ses I, 'as I vas never here afore, t'aint werry likely as I have heerd of 'un; but who is he?' 'Vhy,' ses he, 'he vas an old grocer as lived in this here town o' Stevenage,' ses he, 'years and years ago,' ses he; 'and left in his vill[23] vhen he died,' ses he, 'that he vouldn't be buried, not he, but be box'd up in his coffin and highsted up a-top o' the beams of his "hovel," as he called it; but a barn it is, that's sartain,' ses he. 'Nonsense,' ses I; 'you ain't a-going to come over me in that there style vith your gammon,' ses I. 'Gammon or no,' ses Tom, 'if you've a mind you may see him yourself,' ses he; leastvays you may see his oak coffin,' ses he. 'Seein's believin',' ses I, 'all over the world,' ses I, 'so here goes;' and up I gets, and Tom, he gets up too, and vun or two others, and ve goes out; and Tom, he catches holdt of a stable lantern, and picks up vun o' them poles with a fork at the end—them things vot the vashervomen hangs their lines upon ven they dries the clothes—and ve valks into a stable-like place as had been a barn, and Tom he hooks the lantern on to the pole, and holds it up, and there sure enough vos the coffin, a stuck up in the roof a top o' two beams.

"It's as true as I'm a-sitting here," continued Tyler, as he observed symptoms of incredulity in some of his auditors; "it's as true as I'm a-sitting here; and vot's more, you may see it there yourselves in that werry place to this werry day if you like to go as far. Vel, as I vos a saying, I looks up, and ses I, 'I'm blessed if it ain't a coffin,' ses I. 'Ay,' says Tom and the others, 'now you'll believe it, von't you?' 'Sartainly I vill,' ses I, 'now I sees it; but I'm blow'd if I didn't think you had been a-going on with some game or another,' ses I.

"Vell, ve come back agen to the tap, and ve sat there a-talking over that there old man and his rum fancy of being cocked up there, and vot not, till ve'd had enough, and thought it time to be off; it was then about half-past eleven. So Tom says, ses he, 'I'll show you vhere you are to hang out, Tyler,' ses he; so he takes me out in the yard and shows me my nest over the stable, and I'm blessed if it warn't the wery next to the vun with the old man. 'Pretty close company,' ses I to myself, 'anyhow;' but howsumdever I never said nothink, not I, in case he should think that I was afeerd arter vot he'd a' been saying and that; so up I goes vith the lantern, up the ladder, but I couldn't for the life of me help a-thinking of old Harry Trigg, (that vos the old feller's name, him in the coffin.) Vel, however, I turns in at last, and I hadn't been in bed more nor ten minutes at most, ven I heerd a kind of a——"

"Mercy! what's that!" exclaimed Mary, as the sign-board outside seemed to take part in the tale, and groan uneasily in the wind. "Don't be foolish, Mary," said my host, scarcely less frightened; "what should it be but the old sign? Don't interrupt Master Tyler again, there's a good lass."