"But how didst thou come by it, Rupert?" she asked.
"Honestly, I warrant thee," he said, and then he laughed in a shamefaced manner.
"I went unto the village alehouse, and I sang for the greasy clowns were sitting there. At Monksfield the officers said that I was a lusty lad at a catch. So when I sang and spoke up saucily, these rude fellows gave me of their food. So thou seest," he ended, "I've sung for thee at last, Merrylips, though at Monksfield I would not do't for the asking."
Rupert joked and laughed about it bravely. But Merrylips knew that, in plain words, he had gone a-begging to get food for them.
It was the first time, even in his rough life, that Rupert had had to do a thing that was so hateful to his pride, but it was not the last time. They had to have food, those two poor little travellers, and they had no money with which to buy it. So time after time Rupert did the only thing that he could do. He slipped into a farmyard or a lonely alehouse, and there, with his songs and his pert speeches, he got now a piece of bread, and now a ha'penny, and now, far oftener than he told Merrylips, only cuffs and curses for his pains.
While Rupert went on these risky errands, Merrylips hid in the fields. But one afternoon, when she was seated under a straw-stack, she was found by the surly farmer that owned the field. He shook her as soundly as ever a little boy was shaken, and threatened to set his dog upon her. After that Rupert thought it best not to leave her alone, but to take her with him wherever he went.
He was sorry to do this. He feared that she might be hurt or frightened by the rough men among whom he had to go. He feared too lest the sight of such a young lad as she seemed, might make people ask questions. And just then he was very eager to escape notice.
They were now drawing near to the rebel lines, which they must cross, if they would ever reach Walsover. To north of them lay the town of Ryeborough, which was held for the Parliament by Robert Fowell, Lord Caversham. It was a walled town with a castle,—a strong place, from which bands of rebels went scouting through the countryside.
This much Rupert had learned in the alehouses. And he and Merrylips remembered, too, that it was from Ryeborough that men and guns had been sent to the siege of Monksfield. They feared the very name of the town, and they would have been glad to slip from one hiding-place to another, and never show themselves to any one, till they had left it long miles behind them.
But they could not keep on marching, unless they had food to eat. And in order to get food, they must go where people were. And since the cross farmer had frightened Merrylips, they felt that they must go together. So after some hours of hunger they screwed up their courage, and late of a chill afternoon limped, side by side, into a hamlet of thatched cottages that was called Long Wesselford.