“Your courage shall not pass unrequited,” replied the speaker. “Where are you going?”
“To my master’s, at the Baptist’s Head, at the corner of Creed Lane—not a bow-shot hence.”
“It will not be safe to go thither,” observed the other. “Your master will deliver you to the watch.”
“I will risk it, nevertheless,” answered Gilbert. “I have an old grandame whom I desire to see.”
“Something strikes me!” exclaimed the other. “Is your grandame the old woman who warned the usurper Jane not to proceed to the Tower?”
“She is,” returned Gilbert.
“This is a strange encounter, in good sooth,” cried the other. “She is the person I am in search of. You must procure me instant speech with her.”
“I will conduct you to her, right willingly, sir,” replied Gilbert. “But she says little to any one, and may refuse to answer your questions.”
“We shall see,” rejoined the other. “Lead on, good Gilbert.”
Followed by his unknown companion, about whom he felt a strange curiosity, not unalloyed with fear, Gilbert proceeded at a rapid pace towards his destination. The whole of the buildings then surrounding Saint Paul’s, it is almost unnecessary to say, were destroyed by the same fire that consumed the Cathedral; and, though the streets still retain their original names, their situation is in some respects changed.