Chapter II
Of the Man from Cornwall, with an
account of what fell in Bristol Castle.
Now, my encounter with Sir Ralph Leybourne, which was the original of certain curious sequels, fell in this wise. I had danced a pretty lively sort of jig across country, and was now posting for the West, several shires, indeed, being at that time too warm for my toes. It was then my usage, as it has ever been, upon such alarms to settle in a private retirement, and hear the wind blow over my head; whether ’twas with Polly Scarlett in the Ratcliff Highway, or may be in a snug corner with some other Mrs Bitchington. But of all these give me Polly for my taste. And now that the traps were out in town, and I was pictured thick in many a Hue and Cry, I was, for the nonce, in pursuance of this policy,
47
