Part 2 (1/2)

And just before we parted for the night we held counsel together and agreed that, in the morning, we would in company visit the holy shrine.

Third Day

[Ill.u.s.tration]

A Tale of the Verger.

Third Day

[Ill.u.s.tration]

We rose early the next day, and, that we might be in all possible things like the men in whose steps we were walking, we 'cast on fresher gowns'

before we started to walk through the town. Then, after we had breakfasted, we set out with our new friend for the Cathedral. Our way led through the gate, on which the sun shone brightly, and where tramps were still waiting to be hired; and then through the High Street, filled with other pilgrims, who spake divers tongues, who wore not sandal, but canvas shoon, and who had their 'signys' in their hands and upon their 'capps,'

for many had puggarees about their hats, and still more carried red guide-books. The air was warm, but fresh and pure as if the sea-breeze had touched it; and the gables and carvings of the old houses were glowing with sunlight. The reflection of the red roofs and of geraniums and hollyhocks in gardens by the way made bright bits of colour in among the tall reeds of the little river Stour, and as we went slowly along we talked, as befitted the occasion, of bygone times, for at every step we were reminded of those earlier travellers whose humble followers we were.

Here we came to the Hospital of St. Thomas, now an almshouse, of old the place where poor pilgrims found shelter; and here, in the ground-floor of a haberdasher's shop, we saw a few arches of what was once the 'Chequers of the Hope,' where the rich were lodged; and so, when in Mercery Lane, where the houses almost met above in a friendly, confidential way, we saw a man in c.o.c.ked-hat and knee-breeches and much gold lace, it seemed as if he, like everything else in Canterbury, must be a relic of the olden time.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Waiting to be Hired._]

[Ill.u.s.tration: On the Stour.]

'I must know who that fellow is!' the priest exclaimed; and, without more ado, walked up to him and boldly addressed him thus: 'Ahem!--I say now--who are you, any way?'

And the man, in his wonder, forgot to take offence, and answered, 'Why I, Sir, am the town crier!'

Talk of Yankee cheek indeed!

Then we went on down the lane, past the round marketplace, where women were selling sweets, and under the stone gateway with its time-worn tracery, to the south porch of the Cathedral, where a tricycle was standing. As the pilgrims had to pray before they could approach the sacred tomb, so we, after we had entered the nave, had to wait and listen to morning service. Then we were told that no one could go to the shrine unless led thither by the verger. There was nothing to do but to fall into the ranks of a detachment of tourists on their way to it. With them we were marshalled through the iron gate, separating the choir from the chapels, by a grey-bearded, grey-haired man, who kept his eye sternly upon us as we deposited our sixpences, our modest offerings in place of 'silver broch and ryngis.'

'Where is the shrine?' we asked, as soon as we were on the other side of the gate.