As he threw back his head the shirt-front opened, displaying his bare neck and hairy chest.

His face was sullen, with a bull-dog expression on it.
Without a moment's hesitation, the stranger began: "I am weary, and my child hath had no food to-day.

Would you, for money, give us a morsel to eat and a blanket and corner in which to sleep ?" "Who are you ?" asked the smith.
"We came from New Plymouth, and have walked all day.

I will pay you well for what you give us." The blacksmith loved money; but those were troublesome times, and people had to be careful whom they admitted into their houses.

The king had been restored and was pursuing his enemies with a vengeance, and to harbor a _regicide_ might mean death on the scaffold.