In an age less corrupt and venal than that under consideration, such a career could not have long continued without check.  But in the time of James the First, from the neediness of the monarch himself, and the rapacity of his minions and courtiers and their satellites,—­each striving to enrich himself, no matter how—­a thousand abuses, both of right and justice, were tolerated or connived at, crime stalking abroad unpunished.  The Star-Chamber itself served the king as, in a less degree, it served Sir Giles Mompesson, and others of the same stamp, as a means of increasing his revenue; half the fines mulcted from those who incurred its censure or its punishments being awarded to the crown.  Thus nice inquiries were rarely made, unless a public example was needed, when the wrongdoer was compelled to disgorge his plunder.  But this was never done till the pear was fully ripe.  Sir Giles, however, had no apprehensions of any such result in his case.  Like a sly fox, or rather like a crafty wolf, he was too confident in his own cunning and resources to fear being caught in such a trap.

His title was purchased, and he reaped his reward in the consequence it gave him.  Sir Francis Mitchell acted likewise; and it was about this time that the connection between the worthy pair commenced.  Hitherto they had been in opposition, and though very different in temperament and in modes of proceeding, they had one aim in common; and recognizing great merit in each other, coupled with a power of mutual assistance, they agreed to act in concert.  Sir Francis was as cautious and timid as Sir Giles was daring and inflexible:  the one being the best contriver of a scheme, and the other the fittest to carry it out.  Sir Francis trembled at his own devices and their possible consequences:  Sir Giles adopted his schemes, if promising, and laughed at the difficulties and dangers that beset them.  The one was the head; the other the arm.  Not that Sir Giles lacked the ability to weave as subtle a web of deceit as his partner; but each took his line.  It saved time.  The plan of licensing and inspecting taverns and hotels had originated with Sir Francis, and very profitable it proved.  But Sir Giles carried it out much further than his partner had proposed, or thought prudent.

And they were as different in personal appearance, as in mental qualities and disposition.  Mompesson was the dashing eagle; Mitchell the sorry kite.  Sir Francis was weakly, emaciated in frame; much given to sensual indulgence; and his body conformed to his timorous organization.  His shrunken shanks scarcely sufficed to support him; his back was bent; his eyes blear; his head bald; and his chin, which was continually wagging, clothed with a scanty yellow beard, shaped like a stiletto, while his sandy moustachios were curled upward.  He was dressed in the extremity of the fashion, and affected the air of a young court gallant.  His doublet, hose, and mantle were ever of the gayest and most fanciful hues, and of the richest