in a small adjoining room, tucking him in as snugly and lovingly as a mother might; and so, with a parting caress, left him and sat down by the fire, and began to poke the brands about in an absent and aimless way. 
"CHATTING PLEASANTLY ALL THE TIME."Presently he paused; then tapped his forehead several times with his fingers, as if trying to recall some thought which had escaped from his mind. Apparently he was unsuccessful. Now he started quickly up, and entered his guest's room, and said—
"Thou art king?"
"Yes," was the response, drowsily uttered.
"What king?"
"Of England."
"Of England! Then Henry is gone!"
"Alack, it is so. I am his son."
A black frown settled down upon the hermit's face, and he clenched his bony hands with a vindictive energy. He stood a few moments, breathing fast and swallowing repeatedly, then said in a husky voice—
