280 The Wife of Seven Husbands = [ Marcu, 
went so far as to declare upon ’Change, “they believed young Master 
Lessomour would be a man well to do in the world, if,” for they gene- 
rally added a reservation, “ if he only took care of himself and had good 
luck.” They might indeed have been a little influenced in the forma- 
tion of this good opinion, by the fact of his being the only heir and 
great favourite of a very rich and very old uncle. On the afternoon in 
question, he and his boon companions were at the height of their mer- 
riment, when one who was sitting in the bay window, that jutted out 
into the street, observed the funeral of Master Shard approaching, and 
gave notice thereof to the others. The passing of a dead body being 
a solemn event, and they being orthodox Christians (according to the 
orthodoxy of those times) their merriment was therefore suspended, and 
I will not undertake to say there was not a share of curiosity mixed up 
with this religious feeling, for they rose, one and all, and huddled into 
the window recess, in order to have a fair view of the funeral proces- 
sion, which as matters went then-a-days was a very sumptuous one. 
Most of the party present being acquainted with the circumstances of 
the case, at once recognized whose funeral it was, and the ignorant and 
anxious ears of Master Lessomour were greedily drinking in sundry 
marvellous tales of the rich widow of Corne-hille, when she herself 
passed immediately by the window, looking becomingly downcast and 
sorrowful. 
“ Be she what she may,” exclaimed my young merchant, “by the 
pillars of St. Hercules, she is a lovely wench, and steps out like an : 
emperatrice.” 
« A witch, Master Martyn,” replied one, the oldest of his companions, 
« a wicked witch is she, take an honest man’s word for it, who should ; 
know something about such things.” 
< He is married to a shrew,” said another, in an audible under tone, : 
which produced a hearty laugh against the former speaker: in this, 
however, Master Lessomour did not join, nor with his companions who 
resumed their places round the well stored table, but drawing a stool 
into the window recess, and taking a tankard of ale with him, he sat 
him down, intending, he said, to have another glimpse of the fair widow 
as she should return from the church ; meanwhile, he requested the 
company to tell him something more about her as they seemed to know 
so much, and he nothing, having been so long away from home—and 
accordingly, Master Andrews (he who had boasted of his knowledge 
of such things, and was indeed reputed the most garrulous gossip in 
the parish) with the assistance and interruption of his companions, when 
they thought he had not made enough of a good point, went through a 
relation of Mrs. Alice’s life and adventures; and, which relation, 
divested of a considerable share of fiction with which Master Andrews 
had laden it, and put together, it is humbly hoped, in something of a 
more coherent manner, corresponded very nearly with that which has 
been already laid before the reader. During all this while, Martyn 
Lessomour spoke not a word, and, when at length the narration: was 
ended, he slapped his hand lustily on the window-sill, and cried out, 
«« By the seven stars, and they are ruling ones now,” casting up his 
eyes to the sign over the door, “ but it is a strange tale—and whether 
true or false I will soon know—+for if the mind of man hold good within 
me four-and-twenty hours, I will somehow or other scrape knowledg 
with this said witching widow.” ; 
