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Updated: May 9, 2025
"And you," says I, "should you be minded to sail with me, go to the Peck-o'-Malt at Bedgbury Cross the word is 'The Faithful Friend, and ask for Adam Penfeather." So I presently stepped forth of the little tavern where I had found such kindliness and, turning from the narrow lane, struck off across the fields.
Howbeit they durst not shoot lest they should alarm the house, and I'm very light on my feet and being small and used to dodging catchpolls and the like vermin, I got safe away. Having done which and bethinking me of my pal Martin, I made for the Peck-o'-Malt. Down he gets from the saddle and me by the collar, and claps a great snaphaunce under my nose. 'So it was you, ye rogue, was it? says he.
"My life, shipmate, and one other thing. What that thing is I will tell you when we have drunk the blood-brotherhood! But now it behoveth me to be a-going, so I'll away. But when you shall seek me, as seek me ye will, shipmate, shalt hear of me at the Peck-o'-Malt tavern, which is a small, quiet place 'twixt here and Bedgebury Cross.
'No, says she, 'to the Peck-o'-Malt by Bedgebury Cross. And, Gregory, should you see aught of the poor man that suffered lately in the pillory, say I would speak with him. And now saddle and begone with my letter. 'To Bedgebury, says Gregory, 'the Peck-o'-Malt to-night, my lady? 'This moment! says she, mighty sharp.
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