There was a large fire blazing in the wide, open chimney of a little village inn, although it was, as we have said, the month of May, and the temperature during the day had been warm. Towards evening, however, it had grown colder, and small drops of rain had begun to descend, ending in a heavy shower as night fell. The fire, however, had not been piled up with the logs of which it was principally composed, altogether for the purpose of keeping out the chilly air of evening--though several of the neighbouring peasantry had taken advantage of the cheerful blaze to warm themselves while they drank their jug of ale; and mine host, with his fair white apron, took care to give them every encouragement to remain, and showed not the slightest disinclination to make as many journeys to the hogshead as his guests desired. His wife, however, and his daughter, both of whom were busily engaged in basting some provision, which turned upon two large spits before the cracking wood, seemed much less disposed to the society of the villagers, giving them many a hint that they interrupted them in the care of the capons, distracted their attention from the sirloin, and had well-nigh made them spoil "the dumplings and all" by letting the pot boil over. In the end, the elder dame, warm by nature, and heated still farther by the fire, gave one of the boors a push with her broad hand, which brought him from his stool to the floor, exclaiming, "Get thee gone, Cobbler Hodge; 'tis time for thee to be home with thy wife. The gentry will be here anon, and we must have the place cumbered with the like of thee, must we!" "Nay, nay, Maude," said her husband, "the great people ever say half-an-hour before they intend to come. Let the man remain, I tell thee; they wont be here for this hour." "And we will stay till they come," cried Hodge, rising up, and resuming his seat a little farther from the fair virago of the inn. "We want to see who are these gentry that arrive so late at night. These are perilous times, Master Millpond, when the Queen is just dead, and the King's Majesty not arrived from the North." "It may be the King himself, God bless his Grace!" said another of the boors; but even as he spoke, to prove the conjecture false, as well as the prognostications of the landlord, the sound of horses' feet, and persons speaking, was heard approaching the door; and, the moment after, a voice was added, calling loudly, and in a tone of great authority, for host, ostlers, and horseboys. The landlord rushed out with all speed; his wife abused her humble neighbours in no very gentle and tender terms; the peasants themselves drew back in awe, the greater because the object of it was undefined; and, after a few moments of confusion, clatter, and talking without, mine host reappeared, bowing to the ground, as he ushered in his guests.