"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 tricks to pay for our night's lodging."
"John," mused the man, "that is a good name! I want no pay from any one who bears that name." And still eyeing John strangely, he led the way to the stable door.
He bade them good-night; and thereupon the straw the two-footed and four-footed pilgrims rested peacefully together, nestled in a warm mass of fur and feathers, flaxen hair, and woolen rags.
In the morning the farmer brought them food, and his family came with him to see the strange visitors. For so many animals had never before been seen together in that country. John put Bruin and Brutus through their tricks, and the children clapped their hands joyously at the sight. Then John himself tumbled and danced for them, and they were in an ecstasy.