"Yes, yes, and you have cause, poor fellow," said Miles, pityingly, "but I can tell you it was not my fault, and I never knew what had happened until I went home to my brother's funeral and saw the village empty."
"Aye, and if you sell us to Sir Thomas there'll soon be another village empty, and the farms given up to sheep," interrupted Reuben, "for my master here is to be put into a cage, like mad Sir Philip Warren, because he will by no means sign the papers to make the rest of the land into sheep farms."
Rankin had heard something of this being in contemplation, and so he listened in stolid silence while Reuben told his tale. Miles said a word now and then on behalf of his father, and, but for his desperate strait, would not have let Reuben tell why they were flying to Oxford, but nothing Reuben could say would lessen or increase the hate that burned in the breast of this man against his oppressor, or the son that had practically forced his father into taking this step. But against this Oxford lad they had no grudge. On the contrary he had always made himself a friend of the farmer and villagers alike, and Reuben's story now, and the consequences that would follow if Miles should be taken and declared to be insane, would be disastrous to everybody.
Already the country was so overrun with beggars and thieves that those who felt the greatest pity had to refuse help because of the numbers that beset them day by day, and so, for this number to be increased, when it could be prevented, was not to be thought of. But at the same time the men had set out on their journey to Woodstock to try and negotiate for the ransom for their two prisoners, and so, if anything was to be done to save them from being handed over to Sir Thomas, it must be done at once.
Doubtless the thought of doing the squire an ill turn was not without its charm for Rankin, but he did not say a word about this. He sat for a minute or two considering the matter, and then he said, "We must all go, and get away as soon as possible."
"What do you mean?" asked Miles, as Rankin began to saw away with his blunt knife at the cords round his ankles.
"It will be my life for yours, Master Miles," said the farmer in a whisper.
"Then leave us where we are," said Miles.
But the man shook his head, saying, "You are of more use than I am, and my wife is not here just now, so we may be able to get away together when it is dark."
"But if you are caught?" said Miles.