was now all
obsequiousness, and told the beggar he could command the best in the
house.

When the time came to retire, his host brought the king by a ladder to
a loft which occupied the whole length of the building, and muttered
something about the others sleeping here as well, but thanked Heaven
there was room enough for an army.

"This will not do for me," said the beggar, coming down again. "I'll
take to the storm first. What is this chamber leading out from the
tap-room?"

"That is my own," replied the landlord, with some return of his old
incivility, "and I'll give it up to no beggar."

The king without answering opened the door of the chamber and found
himself in a room that could be barricaded. Taking a light with him he
examined it more minutely.

"Is this matchlock loaded?" he asked, pointing to a clumsy gun, which
had doubtless caused the death of more than one deer in the forest.

The landlord answered in surly fashion that it was, but the king
tested the point for himself.

"Now," he said, "I rest here, and you will see that I am not
disturbed. Any man who attempts to enter this room gets the contents
of this gun in him, and I'll trust to my two daggers to take care of
the rest."

He had no dagger with him, but he spoke for the benefit of the company
in the tap-room. Something in his resolute manner seemed to impress
the landlord, who grumbled, muttering half to himself and half to his
companions, but he nevertheless retired, leaving the king alone,
whereupon James fortified the door, and afterward slept unmolested the
sleep of a tired man, until broad day woke him.

Wonderful is the change wrought in a man's feelings by a fair morning.
A new day; a new lease of life. The recurrent morning must have been
contrived to give discouraged humanity a fresh chance. The king,
amazed to find that he had slept so soundly in spite of the weight
of apprehension on his mind the night before, discovered this
apprehension to be groundless in the clear light of the new day. The
sulky villains of the tap-room were now honest fellows who would harm
no one, and James laughed aloud at his needless fears; the loaded
matchlock in the corner giving no hint of its influence towards a
peaceful night. The landlord seemed, indeed, a most civil person,
who would be the last to turn a penniless man from his door. James,
over his breakfast, asked what had become of the company, and his
host replied that they were woodlander