Three persons were seated at the table, the most noticeable of whom was a dissipated-looking young man, dressed in the extremity of the prevailing mode, with ruffles of the finest colbertine, three inches in depth, at his wrists; a richly-laced cravat round his throat; white silk hose, adorned with gold clocks; velvet shoes of the same colour as the hose, fastened with immense roses; a silver-hilted sword, supported by a broad embroidered silk band; and a cloak and doublet of carnation-coloured velvet, woven with gold, and decorated with innumerable glittering points and ribands.  He had a flowing wig of flaxen hair, and a broad-leaved hat, looped with a diamond buckle, and placed negligently on the left side of his head.  His figure was slight, but extremely well formed; and his features might have been termed handsome, but for their reckless and licentious expression.  He was addressed by his companions as Sir Paul Parravicin.

The person opposite to him, whose name was Disbrowe, and who was likewise a very handsome young man, though his features were flushed and disturbed, partly by the wine he had drunk, and partly by his losses at play, was equipped in the splendid accoutrements of a captain in the king’s body-guard.  His left hand convulsively clutched an empty purse, and his eyes were fixed upon a large sum of money, which he had just handed over to the knight, and which the latter was carelessly transferring to his pocket.

The last of the three, whose looks betrayed his character—­that of a sharper and a bully—­called himself Major Pillichody, his pretensions to military rank being grounded upon his service (so ran his own statement, though it was never clearly substantiated) in the king’s army during the civil wars.  Major Pillichody was a man of remarkably fierce exterior.  Seamed with many scars, and destitute of the left eye, the orifice of which was covered, with a huge black patch; his face was of a deep mulberry colour, clearly attesting his devotion to the bottle; while his nose, which was none of the smallest, was covered with “bubukles, and whelks, and knobs, and flames of fire.”  He was of the middle size, stoutly built, and given to corpulency, though not so much so as to impair his activity.  His attire consisted of a cloak and doublet of scarlet cloth, very much stained and tarnished, and edged with gold lace, likewise the worse for wear; jack-boots, with huge funnel tops; spurs, with enormous rowels, and a rapier of preposterous length.  He wore his own hair, which was swart and woolly, like that of a negro; and had beard and moustaches to match.  His hat was fiercely cocked; his gestures swaggering and insolent; and he was perpetually racking his brain to invent new and extra-ordinary oaths.

“So soon returned!” cried Parravicin, as Wyvil appeared.  “Accept my congratulations?”

“And mine!” cried Pillichody.  “We wild fellows have but to be seen to conquer.  Sugar and spice, and all that’s nice!” he added, smacking his lips, as he filled a glass from a long-necked bottle on the table; “May the grocer’s daughter prove sweeter than her father’s plums, and more melting than his butter!  Is she without?  Are we to see her?”