these?" and he turned troubled eyes upon the animals.

"Nay," said John simply, "I ask no better bed than theirs, my fellow
pilgrims. Thank you for your hospitality, kind friend. May we all
sleep in your stable? My animals are quite safe company. They will
hurt nothing that hurts not me."

John smiled then in his happy, trustful way, and the face of the man
looking into his brightened as if by reflection. His coarse mouth
broadened into a smile.

"They shall sleep soundly in the hay," said he kindly, "though it be
against the law. I will risk even the bear and the wolf for the sake
of that you wear about your neck. But the stable and the company of
beasts are not fit for the like of you. That I know, though you be in
rags. Come into the house, young stranger."

"Have you forgotten," said John gently, "how once a stable sheltered
the greatest King of all among the humblest beasts? I have often had
worse beds than a pile of sweet straw. I shall be happy enough among
my friends."

The man hung his head for a moment, then raised it and looked at John
strangely.

"I _had_ forgotten," he said. "Who are you? Who are you who talk so
wisely, and who wear that silver Cross upon you?"

"I am John, the Hermit's pupil, and I am very tired," was the answer.
"May we not rest now? To-morrow perhaps we will show you some pretty