<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER XXIII. How Sir Jocelyn was brought to the Fleet. </h2>
<p>After his arrest by the serjeant-at-arms, Sir Jocelyn was taken, in the
first instance, to the Star-Chamber, where some of the Lords of the
Council were sitting at the time, and examined respecting the "libellous
language and false scandal" he had used in reference to the proceedings of
that high and honourable court. The young knight did not attempt to deny
the truth of the charge brought against him, neither did he express
contrition, or sue for forgiveness; but though he demanded to be
confronted with his accusers, the request was refused him; and he was told
they would appear in due time. Several interrogatories were then addressed
to him, which he answered in a manner calculated, in the judgment of his
hearers, to aggravate the original offence. After this, he was required to
subscribe the minutes of his confession, as it was styled; and a warant
for his committal to the Fleet Prison, and close confinement within it,
was made out.</p>
<p>Consigned once more to the custody of the serjeant-at-arms, he was placed
on board a barge, of ill-omened appearance, being covered with black
cloth, like a Venetian gondola, and kept for offenders against the
Star-Chamber. In this he was rowed down the Thames, and up the Fleet, to
the entrance of the prison. The progress of the well-known sable barge up
the narrow river having been noted by the passengers along its banks, as
well as by those crossing Fleet Bridge, some curiosity was felt to
ascertain whom it contained; and a crowd collected in front of the prison
gate to witness the disembarkation.</p>
<p>When the young knight's title, and the nature of his offence, which latter
did not appear so enormous in their eyes as in those of the Lords of the
Council, became known to the bystanders, much sympathy was expressed for
him; and it might have found a manifestation in more than words, but for
the guard, who kept back the throng.</p>
<p>At this juncture, Sir Jocelyn heard his own name pronounced in familiar
tones, and looking round for the speaker, perceived a person placed in a
tub close beside him. The individual who occupied this singular and
degrading position was the ill-starred Dick Taverner, who, it appeared,
had made an attempt to escape from prison on the third day after he had
been brought thither, and was punished, according to the custom of the
place, by being bound hand and foot, set within a tub, and exposed to
public gaze and derision.</p>
<p>"Alas! Sir Jocelyn!" ejaculated the apprentice, "but for you I should not
have been here. I undertook a thankless office, and have been rightly
served for my folly. We have both found our way to the Fleet, but I much
doubt if either of us will find his way out of it. As for me, I liked the
appearance of the place, and the society it seems to furnish, so little,
that I resolved to make a clearance of it at once; and accordingly I
managed to scramble up yonder lofty wall, in the hope of effecting my
deliverance, without asking for a licence to go abroad from the warden;
but, unfortunately, in dropping down from so great a height I sprained my
ankle, and fell again into the hands of the Philistines—and here I
am, like the Cynic philosopher in his tub."</p>
<p>Sir Jocelyn would have addressed a few words of consolation to the poor
fellow, but at this moment the wicket was opened, and he was pushed
through it by the attendants of the serjeant-at-arms, who were
apprehensive of the crowd. The small aperture that had given him
admittance to the prison was instantly closed, and all chance of rescue
cut off.</p>
<p>The prisoner being thus effectually secured, the officials felt more easy;
and smiling at each other, they proceeded deliberately to the porter's
lodge, at the entrance of which stood a huge, powerfully-built,
ill-favoured man, evidently chosen for the post of porter from his
personal strength and the savageness of his disposition.</p>
<p>With a growl like that of a mastiff, to the black broad muzzle of which
animal his own features bore a remarkable resemblance, the porter greeted
the new comers, and ushered them into an apartment built of stone,
octagonal in shape, with a vaulted roof, narrow windows like loopholes,
and a great stone fireplace. Its walls, which resembled those of an
ancient guardroom, were appropriately enough garnished with fetters; mixed
up with which, as if to inspire greater terror among the beholders, were
an executioner's heavy whip, with many knotted thongs, several knives,
with strange blades, the purpose of which was obvious enough, and
branding-irons.</p>
<p>As Sir Jocelyn was brought into the lodge by his guards, an elderly man,
with a bald head and gray beard and moustaches, and possessing, in spite
of his years, a most repulsive physiognomy, advanced to meet him. His
doublet and hose were of murrey-colour; and his inflamed visage,
blood-shot eyes, fiery nose, and blotchy forehead, were in keeping with
the hue of his apparel. This was Joachim Tunstall, Deputy Warden of the
Fleet.</p>
<p>Behind him were some half-dozen jailers, attired in garments of dark-brown
frieze, and each having a large bunch of keys at his girdle. All of them
were stout, hard-featured men, and bore upon their countenances the stamp
of their vocation.</p>
<p>The warrant for Sir Jocelyn's committal to the Fleet was delivered by the
serjeant-at-arms to the deputy-warden; and the latter having duly perused
it, was conferring with one of the jailers as to where the prisoner should
be conducted, when a side-door was suddenly opened, and Sir Giles
Mompesson issuing from it, tapped the deputy-warden on the shoulder.</p>
<p>"You need not consider where the prisoner is to be lodged, Master
Tunstall," he said, looking fixedly at Mounchensey all the while. "The
dungeon he is to occupy is the darkest, the deepest and the dampest in the
Fleet. It is that in which his father died. You know it well, Grimbald,"
he added, to one of the burliest of the jailers. "Take him thither at
once, and I will go with you to see him safely bestowed.</p>
<p>"Pass on, Sir," he continued, with a smile of fiendish satisfaction, as
Mounchensey was led forth by the jailer.</p>
<p><br/><br/></p>
<hr />
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />