"It is quite light enough now, methinks," said Charles.
"It is pitch dark at this moment in the gorge of the Avon," rejoined Pope.
Presently, they drew near St. Mary Redcliffe's pile, the outline of which noble fabric could only be discerned through the gloom.
They then entered a narrow street skirted on either side by old timber houses, and leading towards one of the city gates, which took its name from the church they had just passed. Pope readily satisfied the guard at Redcliffe-gate, and entering the city they proceeded towards the bridge.
At that hour there were few people in the streets, which were almost dark owing to the overhanging stories of the old houses. Just after they had crossed the bridge and entered High-street, they encountered the city watch, which had begun to make its rounds, and were challenged by the captain, but allowed to pass on.
Shortly after this encounter, Pope turned into a narrow street on the left, and descending it, they had nearly reached the quay, when Pope stopped, and pointed to a tavern on the right, above the open door of which hung a lamp that cast a feeble glimmer on the footway.
"That is the Dolphin, my liege," he said.
Charles looked at the house for a few moments, as if debating within himself what he should do, and then said:
"Go in first. I will follow."
Pope obeyed, and went into the tavern, Charles keeping close behind him. On crossing the threshold they found themselves in a large, low-roofed, old fashioned room, in which a number of seafaring men were seated at small tables drinking and smoking. The room was so dimly lighted, besides being filled with tobacco-smoke, that the whole of the guests could not be clearly distinguished, but amongst them were three or four individuals, whose puritanical garb and tall steeple-crowned hats showed that they were sectaries.