A portion of the path just detailed is denominated Pedlar's Acre; and it lies between Westminster and Hungerford Bridges. Adjoining the thoroughfare itself is an acre of ground, which is the property of the parish, and is let as a timber-yard. Tradition declares that it was given by a pedlar to the parish, on condition that the picture of himself and his dog be preserved, in stained glass, in one of the windows of Lambeth church; and in support of this legend, such a representation may indeed be seen in the south-east window of the middle aisle of the church just mentioned. Nevertheless, one of those antiquaries whose sesquipedalian researches are undertaken with a view to elucidate matters of this kind,—a valueless labour,—has declared that the land was bequeathed to the parish, in the year 1504, by some person totally unknown. Be the origin of the grant and the name of the donor as they may, there is such a place as Pedlar's Acre; and it is to a public-house in this thoroughfare that we must now request our readers to accompany us.
Seated in a private room on the first floor was a gentlemanly-looking man, of about six-and-thirty years of age. His face was decidedly handsome; but it had a downcast and sinister expression little calculated to prepossess a stranger in this person's favour. There was also a peculiar curl—more wicked than haughty—about his lip, that seemed to speak of strongly concentrated passions: the deep tones of his voice, the peculiar glance of his large grey eyes, and the occasional contraction of his brow denoted a mind resolute in carrying out any purpose it might have formed.
He was dressed with some degree of slovenliness; as if he had not leisure to waste upon the frivolity of self-adornment, or as if his means were not sufficient to permit that elegance of wardrobe which could alone stimulate his pride in the embellishment of his person.
A glass of steaming punch stood untouched near him.
It was six o'clock in the evening; and he was evidently waiting for some one.
His patience was not, however, put to a very severe test; for scarcely had five minutes elapsed after his arrival, when the door opened, and the Resurrection Man entered the room.
"Good evening, Mr. Vernon," he said, as he carefully closed the door behind him: then, taking a seat, he observed, "I hope I have not kept you waiting."
"Oh! never mind that," exclaimed Vernon, impatiently. "Have you any good news to communicate?"
"I am sorry to say that I have not. I called this morning upon the clerk of the parish church where your brother was married, and tried him in all ways."
"And he refused?" said Vernon, with an angry tone.