civil greeting of his lodger, had already
turned his back on him, loath to have further speech with a man whom he
hated and despised.

Like the majority of country folk these days, the blacksmith had a
wholesale contempt for every foreigner, and more particularly for those
who hailed from France: that country--in the estimation of all Puritans,
Dissenters and Republicans--being the happy abode of every kind of
immorality and debauchery.

Prince Amede d'Orleans--as he styled himself--with his fantastic
clothes, his airs and graces and long, curly hair was an object of
special aversion to the Quaker, even though the money which the
despised foreigner paid for his lodgings was passing welcome these hard
times.

Adam resolutely avoided speech with the Prince, whenever possible, but
the latter's provocative and sarcastic speech roused his dormant hatred;
like a dog who has been worried, he now turned abruptly round and faced
Sir Marmaduke, stepping close up to him, his eyes glaring with
vindictive rage, a savage snarl rising in his throat.

"Take notice, friend," he said hoarsely, "that I'll not bear thine
impudence. Thou mayest go and bully the old woman at the cottage when I
am absent--Oh! I've heard thee!" he added with unbridled savagery,
"ordering her about as if she were thy serving wench ... but let me tell
thee that she is no servant of thine, nor I ... so have done, my fine
prince ... dost understand?"

"Prithee, friend, do not excite yourself," said Sir Marmaduke blandly,
drawing back against the wall as far as he could to avoid close
proximity with his antagonist. "I have never wished to imply that
Mistress Lambert was aught but my most obliging, most amiable
landlady--nor have I, to my certain knowledge, overstepped the
privileges of a lodger. I trust that your worthy aunt hath no cause for
complaint. Mistress Lambert is your aunt?" he added superciliously, "is
she not?"

"That is nothing to thee," muttered the other, "if she be my aunt or no,
as far as I can see."

"Surely not. I asked in a spirit of polite inquiry."

But apparently this subject was one which had more than any other the
power to rouse the blacksmith's savage temper. He fought with it for a
moment or two, for anger is the Lord's, and strict Quaker discipline
forbade such unseemly wrangling. But Adam was a man of violent
temperament which his strict religious training had not altogether
succeeded in holding in check: the sneers of the f