"Clearer it should be than thine, ... leech!" Sir Richard retorted. "Much am I perplexed over thy presence within this hut this morning. Methought that yester eve I had bade thee adieu for all."
"Aye, ... and good quittance, well riddance, thou didst think, ... eh? But thou wert remiss, my son, in not bethinking thee to yield me a parting handclasp. I am come to remind thee of thy discourteous oversight, and, what's better, to offer thee wherewith to break thy fast."
"Thou dost but mock mine hunger, de Claverlok, which is most ill beseeming from an unbidden guest within my door."
"Pooh, pooh! guest within thy door, indeed. 'Tis thou who art jesting now, ... eh! But, i' truth, I am not mocking thee, sir knight," protested de Claverlok. "Why, thinkest thou that these bonnie plains and downs are barren of grain and fowl, ... eh? Or that my hand and tongue have lost their cunning? But, tell me, my good Sir Richard, art indeed bereft of thy nostrils?"
When the young knight raised himself upon his elbow he became aware of the appetizing odor of a roasting fowl, which had not quite dropped to the level of his reclining head. In the fireplace behind him he saw that it had all along been sizzling upon an improvised spit, and that beside it there was an iron pot that was sending its cloud of steam merrily up the deep black throat of the chimney.
"I observe," said Sir Richard, rising and going to the door, "that thou art ever thoughtful of the inner man. But, withal, de Claverlok, I like thee right well, and were it not that thou hast designed to constitute thyself my guardian and captor, full gladly would I call thee friend."
"Your hand, Sir Dick, and let us say 'tis so. Your good friend and true have I been since first I clapt my eyes upon your fresh and open countenance, ... eh! By Saint Dunstan, but I wish that I dared tell you a thing or twain as to the reason for my guardianship," he added fervently. "That I am such is the fault of an untoward circumstance of which for the present you must perforce remain ignorant. That I am your captor, ... well," he laughed, "and whose fault is 't, ... eh? You were a free man but yester night, my boy."
"Aye," returned Sir Richard; "and ill did I conduct the business of eluding you. But, marry, man! Here's my hand of friendship, for as friend I insist upon regarding you—and not captor—my good de Claverlok."
Smiling broadly, the grizzled knight grasped and heartily shook the young knight's proffered hand.
"From this old tongue," said he, "you shall hear no denial of your claim. But a truce to soft sayings, ... eh? The fowl doth cry aloud from yon spit. The ale is mulled to that degree of perfection where it would tickle the palate of Epicurus himself. The air is growing heavy with the fragrance of toasting cheese. Let us, I pray you, break our fasts and be off. Our journey doth stretch long before us, and the day grows apace."