"Nay, mistress, you need not be disturbed," said the smith, jovially, "the Sergeant is but jesting, eh, friend?" he added, turning to the soldier. "There! I give you my word, Master Sergeant, that there is nought here for you to find."
"I’ve my orders, smith," said the Sergeant, more curtly.
"Nay, friend," interposed Lady Patience, "surely you overstep your orders. John Stich is honest and loyal, you do him indignity by such unjust suspicions."
"Your pardon, ma’am, but I know my duty. There’s no suspicion against the smith, but there are many rebels in hiding about here, and I’ve strict orders to be on the lookout for one in particular, Philip Gascoyne, Earl of Stretton, who is known to be in these parts."
John Stich interrupted him with a loud guffaw.
"Lud, man!" he said, "there’s no room for a noble lord in a wayside smithy; you waste your time."
"My orders say I’ve the right to search," quoth the Sergeant, firmly, "and search I’m going to."
Then he turned to his squad, who were standing at attention outside.
"Follow me, men," he said, as he stepped forward into the forge.
Fortunately the remote corners of the shed were dark, and Patience still had her hood and cloak wrapped closely round her, or her deathlike pallor, the wild, terrified look in her eyes, would at this moment have betrayed her in spite of herself.
But honest John was standing in the way of the Sergeant.
"Look’ee here, Sergeant," he said quietly, "I’m a man of few words, but I’m a free-born Englishman, and my home is my castle. It’s an insult to a free and loyal citizen for soldiers to search his home, as if he were a felon. I say you _shall not_ enter, so you take yourself off, before you come by a broken head."
"Smith, you’re a fool," commented the Sergeant with a shrug of the shoulders, "and do yourself no good."
"That’s as it may be, friend," quoth John. "There are fools in every walk in life. You be a stranger in these parts and don’t know me, but folk’ll tell you that what John Stich once says, that he’ll stick to. So forewarned is forearmed, friend Sergeant. Eh?"
But to this the Sergeant had but one reply, and that was directed to his own squad.
"Now then, my men," he said, "follow me! and you, John Stich," he added loudly and peremptorily, "stand aside in the name of the King!"