"Easy! easy!" I said, "let a man finish his supper and get warmed in peace."
"Bishop Bonner will warm you!" cried the Bailiff.
"I dare say--as they warm people in Spain!" I sneered.
"He will be Bishop Burner to you!" shrieked the Bailiff, almost beside himself with rage at being so bearded by a lad.
"Take care!" I retorted. "Do not you speak evil of dignitaries, or you will be getting into trouble!"
He fairly writhed under this rejoinder.
"Landlord!" he spluttered. "I shall hold you responsible! If this person leaves your house, and is not forthcoming when wanted, you will suffer for it!"
The landlord scratched his head, being a good-natured fellow; but a bailiff is a bailiff, especially at St. Albans. And I was muddy and travel-stained, and quick of my tongue for one so young; which the middle-aged never like, though the old bear it better. He hesitated.
"Do not be a fool, Master Host!" I said. "I have something here----" and I touched my pocket, which happened to be near my sword-hilt--"that will make you rue it if you interfere with me!"
"Ho! ho!" cried the Bailiff, in haste and triumph. "So that is his tone! We have a tavern-brawler here, have we! A young swashbuckler! His tongue will not run so fast when he finds his feet in the stocks. Master landlord, call the watch! Call the watch at once, I command you!"