aking them out with his
sword, and would have grasped them in his hand in a moment, but the Lord
Mayor caught his arm.

'Pardon, my lord, and grant your new knight's boon.'

'When he is not moon-struck!' said Henry, still guarding the documents.
'Why, my Lady Mayoress, know you what is here?'

'Sixty thousand, my liege,' composedly answered Dame Alice. 'My husband
hath his whims, and I pray your Grace not to hinder what he hath so long
been preparing.'

'Yea, Sir,' added Whittington, earnestly. 'You wot that God hath
prospered us richly. We have no child, and our nephews are well endowed.
How, then, can our goods belong to any save God, our king, and the poor?'

Henry drew one hand over his eyes, and with the other wrung that of
Whittington. 'Had ever king such a subject?' he murmured.

'Had ever subject such a king?' was Whittington's return.

'Thou hast conquered, Whittington,' said the King, presently looking up
with a sunny smile. 'To send me over the seas a free man, beholden to
you in heart though not by purse, is, as I well believe, worth all that
sum to thy loyal heart. Thou art setting me far on my way to Jerusalem,
my dear friend! Thank him, Kate--he hath done much for thine husband!'

Catherine looked amiable, and held out a white hand to be kissed, aware
that the King was pleased, though hardly understanding why he should be
glad that an odour of singed parchment should overpower the gums and
cinnamon. This was soon remedied by the fresh handful of spices that
were cast into the flame, and the banquet began, magnificent with
peacocks, cranes, and swans in full plumage; the tusky bear crunched his
apple, deer's antlers adorned the haunch, the royal sturgeon floated in
wine, fountains of perfumed waters sprang up from shells, towers of
pastry and of jelly presented the endless allegorical devices of mediaeval
fancy, and, pre-eminent over all, a figure of the cat, with emerald eyes,
fulfilled, as Henry said, the proverb, 'A cat might look at a king;' and
truly the cat and her master had earned the right; therefore his first
toast was, 'To the Cat!'

Each guest found at his or her place a beautiful fragrant pair of gloves,
in Spanish leather, on the back of which was once more embroidered, in
all her tabby charms, the cat's face. Therewith began a lengthy meal;
and Malcolm Stewart rejoiced at finding himself seated next to the Lady
Esclairmonde, but he grudged her attention to her companion, a