from the town of Mablethorpe. He had paid all the taxes which the King
had levied and had not murmured beyond his own threshold.

He spoke his mind with candour, and to him the King was still a man to
whom the truth was to be told with directness, which was the highest
honour one man might show another.

"Rank treason!" repeated Lord Rippingdale, loudly. "Enderby has been in
bad company, your Majesty. If you are not wholly with the King, you are
against him. 'He that is not with me is against me, and he that gathereth
not with me scattereth abroad.'"

A sudden anger seized the King, and turning, he set foot in the stirrup,
muttering something to himself, which boded no good for John Enderby. A
gentleman held the stirrup while he mounted, and, with Lord Rippingdale
beside him in the saddle, he turned and spoke to Enderby. Self-will and
resentment were in his tone. "Knight of Enderby we have made you," he
said, "and Knight of Enderby you shall remain. Look to it that you pay
the fees for the accolade."

"Your Majesty," said Enderby, reaching out his hand in protest, "I will
not have this greatness you would thrust upon me. Did your Majesty need,
and speak to me as one gentleman to another in his need, then would I
part with the last inch of my land; but to barter my estate for a gift
that I have no heart nor use for--your Majesty, I cannot do it."

The hand of the King twisted in his bridle-rein, and his body stiffened
in anger.

"See to it, my Lord Rippingdale," he said, "that our knight here pays to