declare for the King, prompt where others were slow,
loyal where others faltered, and that she flew the King's flag from
her own battlements in subtle assertion of her belief that in every
faithful house the King was figuratively, or, as it were,
spiritually, a guest.

Master Vallance, reflecting drearily upon the uncertainties of an
existence in which high-spirited, beautiful young ladies played an
important part, became all of a sudden, though unaccountably, aware
that he was not alone. Moving his muddled head slowly away from the
walls of Harby, he allowed it to describe the better part of a
semicircle before it paused, and he gazed upon the face of a
stranger. The stranger was eying the innkeeper with a kind of
good-natured ferociousness or ferocious good-nature, which little in
the stranger's appearance or demeanor tended to make more palatable
to the timid eyes of Master Vallance.

"Outlandish," was the epithet which lumbered into Master Vallance's
mind as he gaped, and the epithet fitted the new-comer aptly. He was,
indeed, an Englishman; that was plain enough to the instinct of
another Englishman, if only for the gray-blue English eyes; and yet
there was little that was English in the sun-scorched darkness of his
face, little that was English in the almost fantastic effrontery of
his carriage, the more than fantastic effrontery of his habit.

When the stranger perceived that he had riveted Master Vallance's
attention, he smiled a derisive smile, which allowed the innkeeper to
observe a mouthful of teeth irregular but white. Then he extended a
lean, brown hand whose fingers glittered with many rings, and caught
Master Vallance by his fat shoulder, into whose flesh the grip
seemed to sink like the resistless talons of a bird of prey. Slowly
he swayed Master Vallance backward and forward, while over the dark
face rippled a succession of leers, grins, and grimaces, which had
the effect of making Master Vallance feel thoroughly uncomfortable.
Nor did the stranger's speech, when speech came, carry much of
reassurance.

"Bestir thee, drowsy serving-slave of Bacchus," the stranger chanted,
in a pompous, high-pitched voice. "Emerge from the lubberland of
dreams, and be swift in attendance upon a wight whose wandering star
has led him to your hospitable gate."

As the stranger uttered these last words his hand had drawn the
bemused innkeeper towards him: with their utterance he suddenly
released his grip, thereby