Chapter 24 - Page 2

periwigs, adorn themselves with
new sword and shoulder knots, and trifle over the latest essences
offered in the toyshops.

"Split me," said one splendid fop, "but since my lady returned to town
the price of ambergris and bergamot and civet powders has mounted
perilously, and the mercers are all too busy to be civil. When I sent
my rascal this morning to buy the Secret White Water to Curl
Gentlemen's Hair, on my life he was told he must wait for it, since new
must be made, as all had been engaged."

One man at that time appeared at the Cocoa Tree and Cribb's with a new
richness of garb and a look in his face such as had not been seen there
for many a day. In truth, for some time the coffee-houses had seen but
little of him, and it had sometimes been said that he had fled the
country to escape his creditors, or might be spending his days in a
debtors' prison, since he had no acquaintances who would care to look
for him if he were missing, and he might escape to France, or be seized
and rot in gaol, and none be the wiser.

But on a night even a little before the throwing open of Dunstanwolde
House, he sauntered into the Cocoa Tree and, having become so uncommon
a sight, several turned to glance at him.

"Egad!" one cried low to another, "'tis Jack Oxon back again. Where
doth the fellow spring from?"

His good looks it had been hard for him to lose, they being such as
were built of delicately cut features, graceful limbs, and an elegant
air, but during the past year he had often enough looked haggard,
vicious, and of desperate ill-humour, besides out of fashion, if not
out at elbow. Now his look had singularly changed, his face was
fresher, his eye brighter, though a little feverish in its light, and
he wore a new sword and velvet scabbard, a rich lace steenkirk, and a
modish coat of pale violet brocade.

"Where hast come from, Jack?" someone asked him. "Hast been into a
nunnery?"

"Yes," he answered, "doing penance for _thy_ sins, having none of my
own."

"Hast got credit again, I swear," cried the other, "or thou wouldst not
look such a dandy."

Sir John sate down and called for refreshment, which a drawer brought
him.

"A man can always get credit," he said, with an ironic, cool little
smile, "when his fortunes take a turn."

"Thou look'st as if thine had turned," said his companion. "Purple and
silver, and thy ringlets brushed and perfumed like a girl's. In thy
eyes 'tis a finer mop than any other man's French periwig, all know."

Sir John looked down on his shoulders at his soft rich fall of curls
and