“Damned Rascal!” he said. “What year was 221 that, about 1350?” He asked in wonderment. Mr. ” “And why shouldn’t you?” “I felt that sort of thing couldn’t go on. "Too late, master," replied the landlord of the Trumpeter, in a surly tone, for he did not much like the appearance of his customer; "just shut up shop. Then he relaxed back a little, and let the weapon dangle from his fingers. “I do hope I have been able to make you understand how I feel, that you don’t consider me a hopeless prig.
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