Gillian [impatiently]. Were I to believe thee, Master Diccon, all thine affairs are of great matter. Mayhap thou thinkest my business is ever of small consequence?
Diccon. Nay, then, Gillian—but this news is thine and mine and my lord's and my lady's too!
[Gillian turns, a little curious, and waits for him.
Gillian [scornfully]. A strange matter, methinks, that can be thine and mine and theirs, too!
Diccon. But list a moment, and you shall hear. Giles, the horse-boy, hath been in the village this day, and heard that which bodes ill to us. Giles heard them talking in the tavern——
Gillian. Heard whom talking, Diccon? I can make naught of thy twisting tales!
Diccon. Why, the Roundhead knaves, be sure. And the pith and kernel of Giles' tale—an thou'lt not hear the how and the when—is this! that they mean to come hither this night and search our house.
Gillian [gives a little scream and claps her hand over her mouth]. Oh, Diccon, Diccon,—what can they want here? We be peaceful folk. In sooth 'tis known we are all good King's men, but no harm have we done to any! Oh, Diccon!
Diccon. Sst! silly wench! They'll not harm thee. But hark to what else Giles heard. They be coming to search for Master Rufus!