“But not hose or doublet; so the magical virtue of his staff has not helped him much. But put down thy staff, man, and speak like a Christian, if thou be one.”
“I am a Christian, though I look like a heathen; and no rogue, though a masterless man, alas! But I want nothing, deserving nothing, and only ask to speak with Sir Richard, before I go on my way.”
There was something stately and yet humble about the man's tone and manner which attracted Amyas, and he asked more gently where he was going and whence he came.
“From Padstow Port, sir, to Clovelly town, to see my old mother, if indeed she be yet alive, which God knoweth.”
“Clovally man! why didn't thee say thee was Clovally man?” asked all the grooms at once, to whom a West-countryman was of course a brother. The old steward asked—
“What's thy mother's name, then?”
“Susan Yeo.”
“What, that lived under the archway?” asked a groom.
“Lived?” said the man.
“Iss, sure; her died three days since, so we heard, poor soul.”