But when the door was open into the passage that communicated with the rest of the house, the loud voices of the Royalists could be heard in laughter or dispute.
When the family vacated this room for the convenience of Ralph and Sim, they left behind at the fireside, sitting on a stool, a little boy of three or four, who was clearly the son of the landlord.

Ralph sat down, and took the little fellow between his knees.

The child had big blue eyes and thin curls of yellow hair.

The baby lips answered to his smile, and the baby tongue prattled in his ear with the easy familiarity which children extend only to those natures that hold the talisman of child-love.
"And what is _your_ name, my little man ?" said Ralph.
"Darling," answered the child, looking up frankly into Ralph's face.
"Good.

And anything else ?" "Ees, Villie." "Do they not say you are like your mother, Willie ?" said Ralph, brushing the fair curls from the boy's forehead.