"Better a tight coat to your back than a tight rope to your
neck, Harry. Wait."

Taking a taper, he left the room, to return a moment later with
the coat that Kenneth had worn that day, and which he had
abstracted from the sleeping lad's chamber.

"Off with your doublet," he commanded, and as he spoke he set
himself to empty the pocket of Kenneth's garment; a
handkerchief and a few papers he found in them, and these he
tossed carelessly on the bed. Next he assisted the Irishman to
struggle into the stolen coat.

"May the Lord forgive my sins," groaned Hogan, as he felt the
cloth straining upon his back and cramping his limbs. "May He
forgive me, and see me safely out of Penrith and into
Cromwell's camp, and never again will I resent the resentment
of a clown whose sweetheart I have made too free with."

"Pluck that feather from your hat," said Crispin.

Hogan obeyed him with a sigh.

"Truly it is written in Scripture that man in his time plays
many parts. Who would have thought to see Harry Hogan playing
the Puritan?"

"Unless you improve your acquaintance with Scripture you are
not like to play it long," laughed Crispin, as he surveyed him.
"There, man, you'll do well enough. Your coat is somewhat