Mistress Betty too had mixed with the throng, and was eyeing Jock, with irrepressible laughter dancing in her saucy little face.
"Lud! 'tis that funny bit of sheep's wool!" she said gaily. "Faith! and you do look sadly, Jock Miggs, and no mistake! Have you been in the pond?"
"How did 'e foind that out?" queried Miggs, vaguely. "Aye! they dumped Oi in t' pond, they did ... and nearly throttled Oi ... 'tis a blamed shame!"
He had sipped huge tankards of hot ale until he felt thoroughly warm, and was steaming now like a great loaf just out of the oven.
"Dumped ye in the pond?" laughed Mistress Betty. "You were no beauty before, Jock Miggs ... but now ... Oh! Gemini! ... Why, what had you done?"
"I'd done nowt!" retorted the bewildered shepherd. "A foine gentleman he took a fancy to me old smock, he did ... he put a pistol to my head ... then he give me his own beautiful coat for to make me look decent ... and I were just puttin' it on when them soldiers fell on me ... and nigh throttled me, and clapped me in the pound they did..."
"Ye seem to have had a rough time o' it, friend Miggs," said John Stich, kindly.
"Aye, that be so!" commented Jock, vaguely. "'Mazing times these be!"
"They mistook you in your fine clothes for Beau Brocade," explained one of the villagers.
"May be so!" quoth Miggs. "I dunno."