Anon, one of them struck up a cavalier song very popular among that sect at the period, and ended with: "God save the King!" No war-horse ever heard the blast of a trumpet with more fire in his soul than did the stranger sitting on the porch holding his child by one hand, and his knotted stick in the other, hear that cry.

His hand involuntarily clutched the stick as if it were a sword, and his breath came hard and quick, as if he were eager to rush into battle.

The child seemed instinctively to catch the idea of her father and clutched his arm with both her hands, while her soft brown eyes were fixed on his in mute appeal, and he sat enduring the insult without a murmur.
The kitchen was not so far away but that the partridges, grouse and trout on spits and in the oven gave forth their fumes as they browned to tempting perfection.

The little girl had not yet spoken since they had entered the town; but now she fixed her eyes on her parent and whispered: "I am very hungry." He turned his great brown eyes on her tenderly, and made no answer.

At this moment a tow-headed son of the host espied the strangers on the porch and went to his father to report.