For six days they travelled on in this fashion, about twenty miles each day, staying every night but one at a wayside inn, where Amphillis was always delivered into the care of the landlady, and slept with her daughter or niece; once at a private house, the owners of which were apparently friends of Mr Dugan. They baited for the last time at Derby, and about two o’clock in the afternoon rode into the village of Hazelwood.
It was only natural that Amphillis should feel a little nervous and uneasy, in view of her introduction to her new abode and unknown companions. She was not less so on account of the mystery which appeared to surround the nameless mistress. Why did everybody who seemed to know anything make such a secret of the affair?
The Manor house of Hazelwood was a pretty and comfortable place enough. It stood in a large garden, gay with autumn flowers, and a high embattled wall protected it from possible enemies. The trio rode in under an old archway, through a second gate, and then drew up beneath the entrance arch, the door being—as is yet sometimes seen in old inns—at the side of the arch running beneath the house. A man in livery came forward to take the horses.
“Well, Master Saint Oly,” said he; “here you be!”
“I could have told thee that, Sim,” was the amused reply. “Is all well? Sir Godfrey at home?”
“Ay to the first question, and No to the second.”
“My Lady is in her bower?”
“My Lady’s in the privy garden, whither you were best take the damsel to her.”
Sim led the horses away to the stable, and Saint Oly turned to Amphillis.
“Then, if it please you, follow me, my mistress; we were best to go to my Lady at once.”