I thought the maid desired not to answer my question, but this, while it aroused suspicions in my mind did not keep me from eating a hearty breakfast. Moreover, I felt neither tired nor sleepy. My journey of ten miles, my long watching and waiting, seemed to have affected me not one whit, and when I had finished breakfast I had no more weariness than when I had left my home two days before. In spite of my anxiety, too, I felt strangely light of heart, and as the sunlight streamed into the room I found myself humming a song. "Good morning to you, young master, and a good appetite." It was the landlord who spoke, the very man I wanted to see. "The same to you Master Landlord," I replied. "Ay, but I spoiled my appetite an hour ago, young master. An innkeeper must needs be an early riser." "Ay, I suppose so," I made answer, blessing my stars that the man had given me the very opening which I desired. "Doubtless some of your guests have taken leave of you this morning." "As to that, no, young master." "Ah, no one has left you to-day?" "No, not to-day." "That is lucky for me," I said, "for I had fears lest one of your guests whom I wanted to see had left before I had a chance of speaking to him." "And which might that be, if I am not making too bold in asking?" he said, and I thought his eyes searched my face curiously. "The Cavalier who rode up last night with a lady." "Ah, but which?" "I saw but one," I made answer. "He came up even while the groom was unsaddling my own horse. A tall man, with black hair just turning grey. He wore a grey feather in his hat, and his sword was jewel hilted." "That description might apply to many a traveller who puts up here," he replied. "His name, young master, his name?" "As to his name," I replied, for here the man had found a weak place in my armour, "well there may be reasons for not mentioning it." "I have naught to do with nameless wanderers, young master, and thank God the country will have less than ever to do with them since England's true king is coming back. Each traveller who comes to this inn gives his name as a gentleman should. It is well known for five miles around, ay, fifty for that matter, among those who travel, that _The Barley Sheaf_ bears a name second to none. Its sack is of the best, its company the best, while neither footpad nor traitor is ever welcomed within its walls." The man spoke as I thought with unnecessary warmth. There seemed no reason why he should be so anxious to defend the character of the house before a youth like myself, who made no charge against it. "Methinks he does protest too much," I said to myself, calling to mind the words of Master Will Shakespeare, whose writings had been little read during Cromwell's time, but whose plays I had often read with much delight. Still I remembered my father's advice, and determined to arouse no suspicion in his mind.