Customers flocked to the tap of the Red Lion as they had never flocked before, unless in election-time; and good Mrs.Cobbe had to repeat the story of the conjuror's illness and death till, like many other reciters, she had told it so often that she began to forget it.

As for her husband, he had enough to do to serve the customers and take the money, to say nothing of showing the room, which proved a vast attraction, and remained for more than a week just as it was left on the evening of the performance, with the table, canopy and paraphernalia of wizardom still set out upon the platform.
In the midst of these things arose a momentous question--what was the religion of the deceased, and where should he be buried?
As in the old miracle plays we find good and bad angels contending for the souls of the dead, so on this occasion did the heads of all the Saxonholme churches, chapels and meeting-houses contend for the body of the little Chevalier.

He was a Roman Catholic.

He was a Dissenter.

He was a member of the Established Church.