He smiled as he said this, but there was something in his eyes that made even Rupert think it would not be well to disobey him.
So Rupert and Merrylips stood waiting, while Dick Fowell went into the next room. He left the door ajar behind him, and they could not help hearing something of what was said inside.
Almost at once they heard a woman cry indignantly:—
"Art thou stark mad, Dick? To think that I, forsooth, would look upon a brace of wretched malignants that thou hast taken prisoner! Why hast thou brought such fellows hither? Is thy father's house to be made a bridewell?"
Then they caught the murmur of Fowell's words but not their sense, and after that they heard a girl's voice say:—
"Sure, Dick must have reason for this that he doth ask."
Then another merry young voice struck in:—
"Are these prisoners of thine very desperate rogues to look on, Dick?"
"Why," said Fowell, slowly, "they've neither of them shaved for some days, and they're travel-stained, and ragged thereto, yet I'll go bail they will not fright you sorely. Shall I bid them in, good mother?"
A nod of assent must have been given, for next minute, though no word had been spoken, Fowell pushed the door wide.