“My own prowess kept off the savages,” replied Adam. “As to my paunch, I had to consume my own fat during the Starving Time, like the bears over yonder do in winter. Say, lad, I thought you had been buried long ago by your ranting spouse, Meg. Her temper must have improved vastly to allow you to go junketing around like this.”
Jack scratched his shock head, and whispered with a sly wink, “She thinks I am down at Deptford, looking after repairs on old Sir Francis Drake’s ship. Come down, Adam, and have a cup of ale for the sake of old times. We will go to the tavern hard by and make a roaring night of it.”
Adam shook his head and drew himself up proudly. “I cannot, Jack, I am body-servant to Master John Rolfe, husband of the Lady Rebecca. Besides, there is a little lad in there whom I love as if he were mine own. I have to keep straight for his sake.”
While this conversation was taking place, and the revelers were still tormenting the driver, a band of London apprentices, with clubs in their hands and flat caps on their heads, were coming at a swinging pace across London Bridge, from the north side of the Thames. On perceiving the revelers blocking the way, they raised the cry of “Clubs, clubs!” and bore down upon the mummers. Swinging their cudgels right and left upon the heads of the luckless maskers, they quickly cut a wide path for the coach.
Down upon the plunging horses came the long curling whip of the postilion. Smarting under the stinging lash, they plunged forward under the gateway of London Bridge, surmounted by a row of ghastly heads set on pikes; and sweeping forward across the bridge, swerved to the left, rattled down the street echoing with the postilion’s horn, and drew up with a flourish before the Mermaid Inn.
Out came the obsequious host with many bows to greet them. “Why, Master Rolfe, you are a sight to gladden the heart. And this is the Lady Rebecca, your wife? I need not tell you, honored madam, that all London welcomes you.”
“Yes,” said Rolfe, “we have just had a sample of their good will on South Wark side of the Thames.”
“The Lady De La Warre was here a week ago come Tuesday, to engage rooms for your party, Master Rolfe. They are in readiness and I will conduct you to them,” said the landlord.
Up a crooked stairway went Pocahontas, followed by her party, to a suite of rooms overlooking the Thames. Wreaths of holly and mistletoe hung from the ceiling and twined around portraits of King James and Queen Elizabeth. Through the diamond-paned window could be seen the shipping plying back and forth upon the river.
While our friends were seated at breakfast the next morning a servant appeared with the information that Lady De La Warre waited below to pay a visit to the Lady Rebecca.