“’Tis a poor ignorant lad, and mayhap was driven hard by hunger, for these be grievous times for the unfortunate; mark you, he hath not an evil face—­but when hunger driveth—­Good woman! dost know that when one steals a thing above the value of thirteenpence ha’penny the law saith he shall hang for it?”

The little King started, wide-eyed with consternation, but controlled himself and held his peace; but not so the woman.  She sprang to her feet, shaking with fright, and cried out—­

“Oh, good lack, what have I done!  God-a-mercy, I would not hang the poor thing for the whole world!  Ah, save me from this, your worship—­what shall I do, what can I do?”

The justice maintained his judicial composure, and simply said—­

“Doubtless it is allowable to revise the value, since it is not yet writ upon the record.”

“Then in God’s name call the pig eightpence, and heaven bless the day that freed my conscience of this awesome thing!”

Miles Hendon forgot all decorum in his delight; and surprised the King and wounded his dignity, by throwing his arms around him and hugging him.  The woman made her grateful adieux and started away with her pig; and when the constable opened the door for her, he followed her out into the narrow hall.  The justice proceeded to write in his record book.  Hendon, always alert, thought he would like to know why the officer followed the woman out; so he slipped softly into the dusky hall and listened.  He heard a conversation to this effect—­

“It is a fat pig, and promises good eating; I will buy it of thee; here is the eightpence.”

“Eightpence, indeed!  Thou’lt do no such thing.  It cost me three shillings and eightpence, good honest coin of the last reign, that old Harry that’s just dead ne’er touched or tampered with.  A fig for thy eightpence!”

“Stands the wind in that quarter?  Thou wast under oath, and so swore falsely when thou saidst the value was but eightpence.  Come straightway back with me before his worship, and answer for the crime!—­and then the lad will hang.”

“There, there, dear heart, say no more, I am content.  Give me the eightpence, and hold thy peace about the matter.”

The woman went off crying:  Hendon slipped back into the court room, and the constable presently followed, after hiding his prize in some convenient place.  The justice wrote a while longer, then read the King a wise and kindly lecture, and sentenced him to a short imprisonment in the common jail, to be followed by a public flogging.  The astounded King opened his mouth, and was probably going to order the good judge to be beheaded on the spot; but he caught a warning sign from Hendon, and succeeded in closing his mouth again before he lost anything out of it.  Hendon took him by the hand, now, made reverence to the justice, and the two departed in the wake of the constable toward the jail.  The moment the street was reached, the inflamed monarch halted, snatched away his hand, and exclaimed—­