His manner was faultlessly deferential, but the modulations of his voice conveyed a world of ironical badinage that was wellnigh intolerable. The young knight was tired, lonely, and, if the truth be said, half fearful; and for these reasons proved no match at all for the extraordinary tavern-keeper at that soft game. Losing for the moment all control of his temper, he sprang petulantly to his feet and rapped angrily upon the wooden bench with the scabbard of his sword. "Devil fly away with the canary, sirrah!" he retorted, threateningly. "I tell thee now, it were the better suited to thy health that thou shouldst do my bidding, man." "This tavern, good my knight," said the inn-keeper, apparently not in the least ruffled, and wholly ignoring his guest's display of anger, "boasts but a meager fare. Plain venison, I fear me much, must needs pass muster with thy dainty palate in lieu of larks and pigeons." A nature prone to sudden disarrangement of poise is usually amenable to swift reasoning and control. By this time, Sir Richard, repenting of his burst of passion and appreciating the imbecility of a resort to violence, had determined in his mind to do his utmost to meet the inn-keeper upon his own ground. He arose, thereupon, and swept toward mine host his most profound curtesy. "Venison from thy cupboard," said he, smiling in a good humor that was not altogether assumed, "would stand substitute for even Karum-pie." With a grim chuckle the inn-keeper then took himself off. The hunchback returned presently bearing upon a broad platter a warmed over venison pasty and a stoup of wine; which, upon tasting, Sir Richard found to be of a most excellent vintage. He was disappointed in one particular, however; for, from the moment of the landlord's exit from the room, the young knight had entertained the hope that his supper might be served through the offices of a comely maid. In that event, as was the habit of the times, he would have enjoyed her companionship through the hour of eating. He could accordingly scarcely conceal his vexation and chagrin upon beholding the lugubrious hunchback. "The Fates defend us!" he exclaimed beneath his breath. "Merely to look at the fellow doth steal away mine hunger." Well within the zone of pleasing warmth of the fire, and with the not untuneful beating of the wind and sleet against the hollow clapboards singing in his ears, Sir Richard, after he had partaken of his supper, remained beside the table, his elbows resting upon its top, his head reclining against his hand. A delightful drowsiness was stealing over him, causing his head to nod lower and lower. Then, with a relaxation of every muscle of his body, he fell forward into a deep sleep.