the
rightful king gets back his own again."

At that moment the travellers were passing by the village forge,
and a bright gleam of light streamed across their path, revealing
to a brawny young fellow at the door the weary horse and its double
burden. He came one step nearer, and exclaimed:

"Why, Joan, what means this? You riding pillion fashion with a
stranger! What, in the name of all the saints, has befallen you?"

Sultan had paused of his own accord at the forge, and Joan was
eagerly telling her story to a little crowd of listeners, and
making so much capital out of the heroism of her gallant rescuer
that all eyes were turned upon the battered stranger; and whilst
deep curses went up from the lips of many of the men as they heard
of the last attempt of the Black Robbers upon one of their own
village maidens, equal meed of praise and thanks was showered upon
Paul, who leaned over his saddlebow in an attitude that bespoke
exhaustion, though he answered all questions, and thanked the good
people for their kindly reception of him, whilst trying to make
light of his own prowess, and to give the credit of their final
escape to Joan, to whom, indeed, it was due.

But the elder smith, John Ives, pushed his way through the little
group round the black horse, and scattered them right and left.

"Good neighbours," he said, "can you not see that this gentleman is
weary and wounded, and that his good horse is like to drop as he
stands?

"Go to, Will. Lift down the maid, and lead her yourself up to
Figeon's. I will conduct the gentleman thither, and tend his hurts
myself.

"For, good sir, I know as much about broken bones as any leech in
the countryside; and if you will but place yourself in my hands,
I'll warrant you a sound man again before another moon has run her
course. 'Tis a farrier's trade to be a bit of a surgeon; and the
Iveses have been farriers in Much Waltham longer than any can mind.

"On then, good horse. 'Tis but a short mile farther; and a good
stable and a soft bed, and as much fodder as you can eat, you will
find at Figeon's Farm."

Paul was glad enough to have matters thus settled for him; and even
Sultan seemed to understand the promise made him, for he pricked up
his ears, dropped his nose for a moment into the kindly hand of the
smith, and with the guiding hand upon his rein stepped briskly
forward up the dark rough lane, through the thick belt of trees on
either side. For in the days of which