“So I am, but I was adopted into the earl’s household three years agone.”
“Then he is Northern,” said a listener.
“No, he came from Sussex.”
“Say where? no tricks upon gentlemen.”
“Michelham Priory.”
“Michelham Priory. Ah! an acolyte! Tapers, incense, and albs.”
“Acolyte be hanged. He does not fight like one at all events.”
“Come up into my den.
“Come, Hugh, Percy, Aylmer, Richard, Roger, and we will discuss the matter deftly over a flagon of canary with eke a flask or two of sack, in honour of our new acquaintance.”
“Nay,” said Martin, “now I have seen you safe home, I must go. It is past curfew. I am a stranger, and should be at my lodgings.”