"Charles Stuart himself," rejoined the smith, placing the red-hot iron on the anvil and making the sparks fly about, as he hammered it into shape. "I wish I had the chance of taking him--ha! ha! But he's not likely to come this way." Then resting for a moment, he asked, "Where do you come from, friend--and where may you be going?" "I come from Bentley House with my young mistress, and am taking her to Packington Hall," replied Charles, readily. "Why, then, you must be Mistress Jane Lane's groom," observed the smith. "The gossip hereabouts is that Sir Clement Fisher is betrothed to her. But I don't think the marriage will take place just yet." "Wherefore not?" inquired the king. "Because Sir Clement has got himself into trouble by his foolish adherence to Charles Stuart. He is sure to be heavily fined, if not imprisoned. Why, you look confounded, young man. Hold up your horse's foot while I clap on the shoe." Charles complied, and nothing more passed between them until the smith had completed his job, when he remarked: "This is a good horse of yours, friend. He would go a long way without tiring." "Yes, I have ridden him a good many miles at a stretch" rejoined Charles. "Perchance from Worcester to Bentley House?" remarked the smith, with a knowing look. "Not quite so far as that," replied the king. "Nay, I don't wish to appear inquisitive," said the smith. "I've heard that Colonel Lane was at Worcester, and I thought you might have been there with him." "I am Mistress Jane Lane's servant, as I have already told you," said Charles. "Mistress Jane was at Worcester as well as her brother, unless I have been misinformed," rejoined the smith. Charles made no answer, but paid for the shoe, and departed. "There's something odd about that young man," mused the smith, looking after him. "I should like to have questioned him a little more. However, I shan't forget him or his horse." CHAPTER VII. HOW THEY WERE RECEIVED AT PACKINGTON HALL. Meanwhile, Colonel Lane and his two companions had come up, and when Charles got back to the little inn, he found them seated on the bench beneath the tree. After enjoying half an hour's good sport, they had sent back the falconers with a few brace of partridges. Colonel Lane filled a cup of sack for the king, who took it with a grateful bow as beseemed the character he represented. Before they set off again, Careless contrived to exchange a few words in private with his majesty.