“The saints presarve us, miss, how ye do talk! And are ye going to stay up there all night, now?”
“Of course I am; I’ve got to sleep somewhere. And say, Matthew, I’m awful hungry.”
“Are ye that, miss? Well, thin, come down to yer supper.”
“Nay, nay,” said Ladybird, laughing merrily; “but do you, O good Matthew, go to Bridget and beg for me a bit of supper.”
“Oh, miss, what dratted foolishness!”
“Foolish nothing! I am a captive princess; you are my henchman. Do you hear, Matthew?—henchman.”
“What’s that, miss?”
“Oh, well, it only means that you must do just as I tell you, because you love me.”
“Yes, miss.”
“So go to Bridget and ask her to put up some supper in a basket, and bring it out here to me.”