"Some day, my good miller," replied the hunter, "I hope to have you take my hand in yours. Proud will I be when the day comes."
II
And so to the miller's house they went. The miller again looked at the stranger and said, "I like his face well. He may stay with us, may he not, good wife?"
"Yes, he is a handsome youth, but it's best not to go too fast," said the good wife. "He may be a runaway servant. Let him show his passport, and all shall be well."
The hunter bowed low, and said, "I have no passport, good dame, and I never was any man's servant. I am but a poor courtier who has lost his way. Pray give me lodging for the night. Your kindness I will surely repay."
Then the wife whispered to the miller, "The youth is of good manners and to turn him out would be sin."
"Yea, a well-mannered youth—and one who knows his betters when he sees them," the miller replied. "Let the lad stay."
"Well, young man," said the wife, "you are welcome here; and well lodged you shall be, though I do say it myself. You shall have a fresh bed with good brown sheets."
"Aye," said the miller, "and you shall sleep with our own son Richard."
Then they all sat down to supper—such a supper: pudding, apple pie, and good things of all kinds. Then at a wink from the miller, the wife brought out a venison pasty.