the barn,
the King following eagerly upon his heels. No one there! The King shot a
surprised and suspicious glance at the youth, and asked--

"Where is he?"

A mocking laugh was his answer. The King was in a rage in a moment; he
seized a billet of wood and was in the act of charging upon the youth
when another mocking laugh fell upon his ear. It was from the lame
ruffian who had been following at a distance. The King turned and said
angrily--

"Who art thou? What is thy business here?"

"Leave thy foolery," said the man, "and quiet thyself. My disguise is
none so good that thou canst pretend thou knowest not thy father through
it."

"Thou art not my father. I know thee not. I am the King. If thou hast
hid my servant, find him for me, or thou shalt sup sorrow for what thou
hast done."

John Canty replied, in a stern and measured voice--

"It is plain thou art mad, and I am loath to punish thee; but if thou
provoke me, I must. Thy prating doth no harm here, where there are no
ears that need to mind thy follies; yet it is well to practise thy tongue
to wary speech, that it may do no hurt when our quarters change. I have
done a murder, and may not tarry at home--neither shalt thou, seeing I
need thy service. My name is changed, for wise reasons; it is Hobbs
--John Hobbs; thine is Jack--charge thy memory accordingly. Now, then,
speak. Where is thy mother? Where are thy sisters? They came not to
the place appointed--knowest thou whither they went?"

The King answered sullenly--

"Trouble me not with these riddles. My mother is dead; my sisters are in
the palace."

The youth near by burst into a derisive laugh, and the King would have
assaulted him, but Canty--or Hobbs, as he now called himself--prevented
him, and said--

"Peace, Hugo, vex him not; his mind is astray, and thy ways fret him.
Sit thee down, Jack, and quiet thyself; thou shalt have a morsel to eat,
anon."

Hobbs and Hugo fell to talking together, in low voices, and the King
removed himself as far as he could from their disagreeable company. He
withdrew into the twilight of the farther end of the barn, where he found
the earthen floor bedded a foot deep with straw. He lay down here, drew
straw over himself in lieu of blankets, and was soon absorbed in
thinking. He had many griefs, but the minor ones were swept almost into
forgetfulness by the supreme one, the loss of his father. To the rest of
the world the name of Henry VIII