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The blacksmith averaged the stalwart soldier with a glance, then went muttering away, rubbing his arm; the woman released the boy's wrist reluctantly; the crowd eyed the stranger unlovingly, but prudently closed their mouths. The king sprang to his deliverer's side, with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes exclaiming:
"Thou hast lagged sorely, but thou comest in good season now, Sir Miles; carve me this rabble to rags!"
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Hendon forced back a smile, and bent down and whispered in the king's ear:
"Softly, softly my prince, wag thy tongue warily-nay, suffer it not to wag at all. Trust in me-all shall go well in the end." Then he added, to himself: "Sir Miles! Bless me, I had totally forgot I was a knight! Lord how marvelous a thing it is, the grip his memory doth take upon his quaint and crazy fancies!... An empty and foolish title is mine, and yet it is something to have deserved it, for I think it is more honor to be held worthy to be a specter-knight in his Kingdom of Dreams and Shadows, than to be held base enough to be an earl in some of the real kingdoms of this world."
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