tlE KING AND THE BONDMEtN.


 CHAPTER III.

 THE BONDMAN S HOME-HIS FAMILY, AND WHAT THEY
 TALKED ABOUT.

 JUST at the outskirts of the forest, there stood a
 small rustic cabin or cottage, built of wood plastered
 with clay, and with a low thatched roof, not much
 unlike the humblest sort of labourers' cottages to be
 seen in the southern counties of England in the pre-
 sent day. But it was very rude and roughly finished;
 there was no glass then to fill the opening that served
 for a window, and the wind entered by many a chink,
 making itself keenly felt during the cold blasts of
 winter. Now, however, being a calm spring even-
 ing, the door of the little tenement stood open, and
 showed the inmates seated in quiet conversation. A
 few heavy, rudely-formed stools, and a three-legged
 table, made up nearly the whole furniture of the
 humble dwelling. On one of the stools sat a man
 whose hair was beginning to turn grey, and whose
 back was bent by years of labour, but a thick full
 beard which covered his chin gave a dignified look
 to his countenance. By his side was seated a woman,
 who, while she talked, employed herself in spinning
 woollen yarns from a distaff; and a comely-looking
 maiden sat near the bright wood fire baking cakes on
 the hearth. The day's work was over, and the villan
 and his family were about to eat their evening meal.
 Besides these three, there was a young man in the
dress of a monk, who stood leaning against the wall
near the door, and, from his likeness to the girl at
the fire, it was easy to see that he was her brother.
It was not uncommon in those days for the son of a