He had, however, hit upon a favourite topic, in
addition to which, he was now evidently loth to leave his guest ere he
had learnt the nature of his errand to these parts. An "o'er-sea
pilgrim," as they were generally styled, was too choice an arrival for a
petty hostel--especially in those times, when newspapers and posts were
not circulating daily and hourly through the land--to let slip an
opportunity of inquiring about the king of Scotland, as Robert Bruce was
then called, or about his majesty, the Sultan Solyman--two personages
who were very frequently confounded with each other in mine host's
political hemisphere, and whose realms formed the great pandemonium
whence issued all that was dire and disastrous to plague and perplex
unhappy England.
"To bed! to bed!--Thou art ready enough to rise when thou art not
bidden. To bed, I say!" angrily shouted the disturbed Benedict.
"Hast _thou_ a wife?" sternly inquired the pilgrim.
"A wife!--marry have I!" exclaimed Giles; "and here she comes."
Finding there was no likelihood of a speedy termination to this
interview, our hostess of the Maypole conceived it to be a matter of
duty that she should at least take her full share in the discussions and
disclosures that might ensue.
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