"Roger Morton, at your service, yes."
"Then, by the love of heaven, I beseech thee let me in."
"Well, there are few ask that favour off me, but none shall ever say
I turned an empty mouth away at night, e'en though it were a beggar's.
Come in."
Thankful indeed to receive so ready an invitation, the traveller entered the hospitable cottage.
"I am not a beggar, though, forsooth," he began, as he seated himself upon the log which did duty for a seat. "You do not recognise me, Roger, I perceive."
"Roger Morton, I repeat it, at your service."
"Well, then, Roger Morton, be it so, but yet you seem to know me not."
"Odds, troth," ejaculated the forester, "I seem to know thee somewhat; we have met before."
"A many times, Roger."
"Roger Morton."