A splendid view, indeed!  Well might King James himself exclaim when standing, not many years previously, on the very spot where Jocelyn now stood, and looking upon London for the first time since his accession to the throne of England—­well might he exclaim in rapturous accents, as he gazed on the magnificence of his capital—­“At last the richest jewel in a monarch’s crown is mine!”

After satiating himself with this, to him, novel and wonderful prospect, Jocelyn began to bestow his attention on objects closer at hand, and examined the landscapes on either side of the eminence, which, without offering any features of extraordinary beauty, were generally pleasing, and exercised a soothing influence upon his mind.  At that time Stamford Hill was crowned with a grove of trees, and its eastern declivity was overgrown with brushwood.  The whole country, on the Essex side, was more or less marshy, until Epping Forest, some three miles off, was reached.  Through a swampy vale on the left, the river Lea, so dear to the angler, took its slow and silent course; while through a green valley on the right, flowed the New River, then only just opened.  Pointing out the latter channel to Jocelyn, Dick Taverner, who had now come up, informed him that he was present at the completion of that important undertaking.  And a famous sight it was, the apprentice said.  The Lord Mayor of London, the Aldermen, and the Recorder were all present in their robes and gowns to watch the floodgate opened, which was to pour the stream that had run from Amwell Head into the great cistern near Islington.  And this was done amidst deafening cheers and the thunder of ordnance.

“A proud day it was for Sir Hugh Myddleton,” Dick added; “and some reward for his perseverance through difficulties and disappointments.”

“It is to be hoped the good gentleman has obtained more substantial reward than that,” Jocelyn replied.  “He has conferred an inestimable boon upon his fellow-citizens, and is entitled to their gratitude for it.”

“As to gratitude on the part of the citizens, I can’t say much for that, Sir.  And it is not every man that meets with his desserts, or we know where our friends Sir Giles Mompesson and Sir Francis Mitchell would be.  The good cits are content to drink the pure water of the New River, without bestowing a thought on him who has brought it to their doors.  Meantime, the work has well-nigh beggared Sir Hugh Myddleton, and he is likely to obtain little recompense beyond what the consciousness of his own beneficent act will afford him.”

“But will not the King requite him?” Jocelyn asked.

“The King has requited him with a title,” Dick returned.  “A title, however, which may be purchased at a less price than good Sir Hugh has paid for it, now-a-days.  But it must be owned, to our sovereign’s credit, that he did far more than the citizens of London would do; since when they refused to assist Master Myddleton (as he then was) in his most useful work, King James undertook, and bound himself by indenture under the great seal, to pay half the expenses.  Without this, it would probably never have been accomplished.”