CHAPTER VI. 



monk's conversion. 



A FEW months after Monk's promise to me 

 I was standing by my house, talking to my 

 master, Mr. Fuller-Maitland, when he looked 

 up and said : — " Halloa, Wilkins, who comes 

 here ? The Lord Mayor ? He seems to walk 

 as if all Essex belonged to him. Do you 

 know the man ?" 



"Yes, sir," said I. "It's Monk, who shot 

 at my wooden pheasants." 



" He's coming to you, Wilkins, let him be 

 whom he may." 



Monk came up to within about twenty 



