A large fire was burning in the grate, at which Dame Joan was roasting a brace of partridges, that emitted a very delectable odour.
"Nothing can be better than those birds, dame, unless it be a broiled mutton chop?" he cried.
"There is a neck of mutton in the larder, an' please your majesty, but I fear the meat may prove too fresh," replied Joan.
"Heed not that," cried Charles. "Mutton chops are the very thing. I will broil them myself. Bring me the gridiron, dame."
Very much amused by the order, Joan obeyed, and the chops being duly prepared, were skilfully broiled by the king, who never for a moment quitted his post, but turned them with a fork when requisite.
While he was thus employed, William Penderel came in, and could scarcely believe his eyes when he found the king standing before the fire. But the faithful fellow did not remain long in doors, for he was now left alone for a time, his brothers having gone to their homes.
Having completed his task to his entire satisfaction, and the infinite amusement of the lookers-on, Charles proceeded to the head of the table, and bidding Careless and the page sit down on either side of him, the chops were served by Joan, and greatly enjoyed. Charles insisted that the good dame should taste his cookery, but she would touch nothing till she had served the partridges. She then discussed the chop at the lower end of the table, and declared, no doubt with truth, that she had never tasted aught so good in her life.
[CHAPTER XI.]
WHAT BROUGHT FATHER HUDDLESTONE TO BOSCOBEL.