is usually overflowing.

"Do you know, my friend," said the Duke to him at last, "I begin to
change my mind respecting you. I supposed you must have served as a
Yeoman of the Guard since bluff King Henry's time, and expected to hear
something from you about the Field of the Cloth of Gold,--and I thought
of asking you the colour of Anne Bullen's breastknot, which cost the
Pope three kingdoms; but I am afraid you are but a novice in such
recollections of love and chivalry. Art sure thou didst not creep into
thy warlike office from some dark shop in Tower-Hamlets, and that
thou hast not converted an unlawful measuring-yard into that glorious
halberd?--I warrant thou canst not even tell you whom this piece of
antique panoply pertained to?"

The Duke pointed at random to a cuirass which hung amongst others, but
was rather remarkable from being better cleansed.

"I should know that piece of iron," said the warder bluntly, yet with
some change in his voice; "for I have known a man within side of it
who would not have endured half the impertinence I have heard spoken
to-day."

The tone of the old man, as well as the words, attracted the attention
of Charles and the Duke of Ormond, who were only two steps before the
speaker. They both stopped, and turned round; the former saying at the
same time,--"how now, sirrah!--what answers are these?--What man do you
speak of?"

"Of one who is none now," said the warder, "whatever he may have been."

"The old man surely speaks of himself," said the Duke of Ormond, closely
examining the countenance of the warder, which he in vain endeavoured
to turn away. "I am sure I remember these features--Are not you my old
friend, Major Coleby?"

"I wish your Grace's memory had been less accurate," said the old man,
colouring deeply, and fixing his eyes on the ground.

The King was greatly shocked.--"Good God!" he said, "the gallant Major
Coleby, who joined us with his four sons and a hundred and fifty men at
Warrington!--And is this all we could do for an old Worcester friend?"

The tears rushed thick into the old man's eyes as he said in broken
accents, "Never mind me, sire; I am well enough here--a worn-out soldier
rusting among old armour. Where one old Cavalier is better, there are
twenty worse.--I am sorry your Majesty should know anything of it, since
it grieves you."

With that kindness, which was a redeeming point of his character,
Charles, while the old man was speaking, took the