Insatiable as unscrupulous, this avaricious pair were ever on the alert to devise new means of exaction and plunder, and amongst the latest and most productive of their inventions were three patents, which they had obtained through the instrumentality of Sir Edward Villiers (half-brother of the ruling favourite, the Marquess of Buckingham)—­and for due consideration-money, of course,—­for the licensing of ale-houses the inspection of inns and hostelries, and the exclusive manufacture of gold and silver thread.  It is with the two former of these that we have now to deal; inasmuch as it was their mischievous operation that affected Madame Bonaventure so prejudicially; and this we shall more fully explain, as it will serve to show the working of a frightful system of extortion and injustice happily no longer in existence.

By the sweeping powers conferred upon them by their patents, the whole of the inns of the metropolis were brought under the control of the two extortioners, who levied such imposts as they pleased.  The withdrawal of a license, or the total suppression of a tavern, on the plea of its being a riotous and disorderly house, immediately followed the refusal of any demand, however excessive; and most persons preferred the remote possibility of ruin, with the chance of averting it by ready submission, to the positive certainty of losing both substance and liberty by resistance.

Fearful was the havoc occasioned by these licensed depredators, yet no one dared to check them—­no one ventured to repine.  They had the name of law to justify their proceedings, and all its authority to uphold them.  Compromises were attempted in some instances, but they were found unavailing.  Easily evaded by persons who never intended to be bound by them, they only added keenness to the original provocation, without offering a remedy for it.  The two bloodsuckers, it was clear, would not desist from draining the life-current from the veins of their victims while a drop remained.  And they were well served in their iniquitous task,—­for the plain reason that they paid their agents, well.  Partners they had none; none, at least, who cared to acknowledge themselves as such.  But the subordinate officers of the law (and indeed some high in office, it was hinted), the sheriff’s followers, bailiffs, tipstaves, and others, were all in their pay; besides a host of myrmidons,—­base, sordid knaves, who scrupled not at false-swearing, cozenage, or any sort of rascality, even forgery of legal documents, if required.

No wonder poor Madame Bonaventure, finding she had got into the clutches of these harpies, began to tremble for the result.

CHAPTER II.

Sir Giles Mompesson and his partner.

Madame Bonaventure had already paid considerable sums to the two extortioners, but she resisted their last application; in consequence of which she received a monition from Sir Giles Mompesson, to the effect that, in a month’s time, her license would be withdrawn, and her house shut up, unless, in the interim, she consented to make amends to himself and his co-patentee, Sir Francis Mitchell, by payment of the sum in question, together with a further sum, equal to it in amount, by way of forfeit; thus doubling the original demand.