The sounds of a ballad carolled below, awoke him next morning to the knowledge that his hostess was already at the house, and about her morning tasks. He sprang refreshed from his pallet, and smiled as he recognized the voice.
"'Tis a miracle," he muttered; "'tis nothing short of a miracle to find her here. But how comes she to be alone in this ruined house, like an enchanted damosel of a fairy tale? 'Tis a strange plight for such a tenderly-nurtured maid, for old Sir Gyles guarded her as the very apple of his eye! And what state did not he keep, and Hunstanton Hall! And with what a retinue did he ride to visit us at Highgate! Yet here is his grandchild without man or maid to serve her, working with her hands like—was I about to say a farm wench? Fie, fie, like a nymph of Arcadia, rather! I cannot but call to mind the romances my master whipped me so soundly for wasting my lesson-hours over in Newcastle Grammar School! I wonder would she flout me, did she guess how like one of those enchanted princesses I deem her? But, in sad earnest, I must needs ask how this change of fortune is come about; 'tis unmannerly to ask questions, but she cannot look on me as all a stranger, even if she hold no memory of those old days at Highgate. Dare I ask her concerning them? That were a more perilous adventure; I must take more council with myself ere I can hold I am armed to dare it!"
He left his room, but such vehement sounds of sweeping and scrubbing sounded from the kitchen that, when Richard reached the foot of the stair, he held discretion the better part of valour, and strolled out of the door into the bright morning air. The little yard was so sheltered by walls and quaint outbuildings that the sunshine felt as warm as May, and the frost was gone from the cobble-stones. A clink of chains down the cart-track drew his attention, and in a minute more an old man hobbled into the yard carrying a couple of milk pails on a yoke.
"Sarvent, sir," said he, endeavouring to touch his forelock.
Harrison saw his own imprudence in standing about so recklessly, but put a good face on the matter, and answered the old man's greeting.
"Missis, her told us her'd got a visitor," continued the milkman, resting his pails on the top of a low wall, and straightening his shoulders; "her bides down at the cottage along o' we now—'tis too lonesome for a young maid here o' nights."
"Oh, then you are Mistress Perrient's cowman," answered Harrison with relief.
"Ees, sir, I be, and I was her grandfather's afore her. Ees—I minds her father's christening, and our young lady's christening; I minds a many things; but times is changed—changed terrible since then." He shook his old head solemnly.
"I suppose it was at Hunstanton you were in Sir Gyles' household?" asked Harrison, idly.
"Ees, sir; but you understand I was not rightly in his household, so to say; I was allers an outside man, and about the pigs and cows—but lawk! a man can see a lot if a man is only about the pigs and cows—beautiful cows they was too, beautiful! but they be all gone."