"JAMES GRUBB,
Honey-cake Maker."
Here the beggar stopped and began to beat violently at the door with his staff.
The sound of the blows echoed along the streets,—and then from within came dismal shouts of "Murder!" "Police!" "Fire!"
But the beggar called back, "Nonsense, James Grubb; it's only a lady come for some honey-cakes."
Then, after a long while, there was a clatter of chains behind the door, and it was opened just an inch, so that the Queen could see an old man's face peeping cautiously out at her. The sight seemed to reassure him, for he opened the door and bobbed nervously. At other times he would have bowed suavely.
"Will your ladyship be pleased to enter?" he said. "I want to shut the door; it is so dangerous to have it open with all these revolutions about."
The Queen complied with his request, and found herself in a little dark shop, only lighted dimly through the round air-holes in the shutters.
"Give this man some honey-cakes," she said; and the honey-cake maker seemed only too delighted.
"How many shall I give him, madam?" he said.
"As many as he wants, of course," the Queen answered sharply.