“I am a freeholder,” I answered, in my confusion, “ever since the time of King Alfred.  A Ridd was with him in the isle of Athelney, and we hold our farm by gift from him; or at least people say so.  We have had three very good harvests running, and might support a coat of arms; but for myself I want it not.”

“Thou shalt have a coat, my lad,” said the King, smiling at his own humour; “but it must be a large one to fit thee.  And more than that shalt thou have, John Ridd, being of such loyal breed, and having done such service.”

And while I wondered what he meant, he called to some of the people in waiting at the farther end of the room, and they brought him a little sword, such as Annie would skewer a turkey with.  Then he signified to me to kneel, which I did (after dusting the board, for the sake of my best breeches), and then he gave me a little tap very nicely upon my shoulder, before I knew what he was up to; and said, “Arise, Sir John Ridd!”

This astonished and amazed me to such extent of loss of mind, that when I got up I looked about, and thought what the Snowes would think of it.  And I said to the King, without forms of speech,—­

“Sir, I am very much obliged.  But what be I to do with it?”

CHAPTER LXIX

NOT TO BE PUT UP WITH

[Illustration:  644.jpg Coat of Arms]

The coat of arms, devised for me by the Royal heralds, was of great size, and rich colours, and full of bright imaginings.  They did me the honour to consult me first, and to take no notice of my advice.  For I begged that there might be a good-sized cow on it, so as to stamp our pats of butter before they went to market:  also a horse on the other side, and a flock snowed up at the bottom.  But the gentlemen would not hear of this; and to find something more appropriate, they inquired strictly into the annals of our family.  I told them, of course, all about King Alfred; upon which they settled that one quarter should be, three cakes on a bar, with a lion regardant, done upon a field of gold.  Also I told them that very likely there had been a Ridd in the battle fought, not very far from Plover’s Barrows, by the Earl of Devon against the Danes, when Hubba their chief was killed, and the sacred standard taken.  As some of the Danes are said to be buried, even upon land of ours, and we call their graves (if such they be) even to this day “barrows,” the heralds quite agreed with me that a Ridd might have been there, or thereabouts; and if he was there, he was almost certain to have done his best, being in sight of hearth and home; and it was plain that he must have had good legs to be at the same time both there and in Athelney; and good legs are an argument for good arms; and supposing a man of this sort to have done his utmost (as the manner of the Ridds is), it was next to certain that he himself must have captured the standard.  Moreover,