“Let Robin take the brown horse,” suggested Avery, “and ride post with a letter from thee to Mrs Philippa; and Tom the white nag, and I will send him likewise to Mr Monke. I might have gone myself to one of the twain, but—”
“Nay, Jack! bide thou with me,” entreated Isoult, fearfully.
“Well said,” answered Dr Thorpe.
“Well!” Avery replied, “there seemeth little time to choose or bowne (prepare) us; but as the Italians have it, ‘Che sarà, sarà.’ (‘What will be, will be.’) When set we forth, Doctor?”
“Now, if we could,” answered Dr Thorpe, significantly.
Preparations for the journey were made in haste, and without waiting for daylight. Robin and Tom were sent on horseback to Crowe and Potheridge, starting with the earliest gleam of dawn. Isoult summoned Jennifer, Barbara, and Ursula the cook, and asked whether they would cast in their lot with hers or remain in Cornwall. Jennifer answered that she feared the journey more than the commons, and the fourth of July was a very unlucky day on which to commence any undertaking: she would stay where she was. Ursula and Barbara, both of whom had been with their mistress ever since her marriage, replied that they would go with her now.
“Nor have I any of mine own that I may well go unto,” Ursula added. “Mine only brother dwelleth in Somerset, and he is but an husbandman, with little wages and a great sort of childre; and beside him I have no kin.”
“My mother is wed again,” Barbara explained, “and my father that now is should grudge to be troubled with me; and my sister, that is newly wedded, hath but one chamber in a poor man’s house. I will hie after you, Mistress, an’ you will have me.”
This question being settled, another arose. Who should be left at Bradmond? Tom was too necessary for the journey; besides which, he was ignorant of the arts of reading and writing, and would not be able to send word how matters went on after their departure. In this emergency, while Isoult and John were talking over the subject, Barbara presented herself with a deprecatory courtesy, or rather lout.
“Mistress,” said she, “if you and our master bethink not yourselves readily of any that should serve for to dwell here in your absence, I would you would think on Marian my sister, and her husband (fictitious persons). They should, I do know, be right willing to be set in charge; and Simon Pendexter (that is my brother) can right well read and write, for he hath been a schoolmaster; and is (though I say it) a sad and sober honest man, such as I do know you should be willing to use in this matter.”