I shall remember, and requite.”

So saying, he took the pen, and set himself to work.  Hendon
contemplated him lovingly a while, then said to himself--

“An’ it were dark, I should think it _was_ a king that spoke; there’s
no denying it, when the humour’s upon on him he doth thunder and lighten
like your true King; now where got he that trick?  See him scribble and
scratch away contentedly at his meaningless pot-hooks, fancying them to
be Latin and Greek--and except my wit shall serve me with a lucky device
for diverting him from his purpose, I shall be forced to pretend to post
away to-morrow on this wild errand he hath invented for me.