"Oh, I forgot, you know naught of him as yet. Well, he, a king of Britain years ago, has just told everybody that the kingdom is to be divided between his two sons, Ferrex and Porrex. Some of his councillors advised 'Yes,' and some said 'No,' but the old king was decided upon having his own way, and the land had just been divided between them." "Get on," said the baron impatiently, as the other paused and finally came to a dead stop. "They are beginning to act again." "And one of the old councillors strongly advised the king to keep his realm entire," continued the man, "I remember his very words. He told the king how bad any division would be, not only for himself, but also for his sons. He says:-- But worst of all for this our native land. Within one land one single rule is best, Divided reigns do make divided hearts, But peace preserves the country and the prince." "As correct as the creed itself," whispered Sir Nicholas. "It may be so," exclaimed the young knight, "but we will let the poetry go. For my part I can't understand that new-fashioned poetry, and I don't want to either. I only like it when it rhymes, like Chaucer." "That all means," resumed the landlord, "that Queen Mary of Scotland had far better leave our gracious Queen Elizabeth (God bless her) to herself. We don't want Roman Catholic princesses here again, Sir Nicholas." "No, indeed not. Mary was enough." Sir George Vernon frowned heavily. He was too sincere a Papist himself to relish such remarks, but he dared not show his displeasure in the face of the Queen's minister. "And I don't care for poetry anyhow," he gruffly said, "so finish without any more of it if you can." "I will then. You saw those two mugs offered to the king?" "Both made of common horn, yes." "They both came from my bar. One was full of wine, but the other held water." "Then when my sack comes I would prefer it without the water," Sir Thomas replied, amid a chorus of laughter. "You exercise your wit upon me, my lord," replied the landlord with some asperity, "but I have not the means wherewith to retort. I am a man of business, not a Court fool." Here he paused, astonished at his own trepidity, and also in fear lest his aristocratic customers should be offended. As he stopped his virtuous indignation passed away, and when he resumed again it was in a tone at once apologetic and placid. "The water," he continued, "was offered by the good councillors, but Gorboduc took the poison, and now he has drunk it off, so----" "Look at your prisoner," interrupted Sir Nicholas, "or very soon you will not have one to look after." Edmund had, in fact, been thrown down just over his knife, and very soon finding this out he had, by dint of considerable trouble, succeeded in cutting the cord which bound his wrists, and was busily engaged in freeing his legs by a similar process when he unfortunately attracted the attention of the Queen's Councillor.