She managed to tell Miles this as he sat by her side, while Dame Rankin busied herself about her household affairs, a little doubtful and uneasy as to whether she had done right in fetching Miles to the rescue of a nun, since it seemed likely, as they had found each other, that she would not go back to a monastic life.
After about an hour Cicely had so far recovered that she said to Miles, "I am so hungry; we had to keep a special fast to-day. But I may have something to eat now."
"Of course, you may, my darling. What a stupid fellow I am! I can scarcely think of anything else because I have found you." And then he went to enquire what the cottage larder would afford, for he had at last realised that he was hungry too.
But Rankin, although he had risen to the position of a leading workman, and had had this cottage built for him close to the walls of Cardinal College, did not presume to keep white bread in his house, or anything else that was fit to set before the gentry; but he readily agreed to go to the hostelry, and fetch Master Baldock if he could be found there, and also to order a meal to be sent by one of the turnspits to Miles and Cicely.
It was arranged that she should stay here for the night in the care of Dame Rankin; for no inconvenience was too great if the man could do anything for the son of his old master, who had saved him from ruin, and made him a man again, as he said.
A month later, and this might have been impossible; for, by that time, the poor fellow would probably have been caught begging, and lashed at the cart-tail through the neighbourhood of Woodstock. And after that, the man could no longer have held up his head among his fellow-men, but would have descended from a man to a savage brute only too easily; so that Rankin was not far wrong when he said that Miles had saved him soul and body, and he would serve him with both till death if he needed such service.
So the simple service of fetching supplies from the hostelry was quickly accomplished, and he was only too eager to give up the best his cottage afforded for the accommodation of Cicely.
When she had eaten a hearty meal, and seemed disposed to go to sleep, Miles left her in charge of his friends; and, as Master Baldock had not returned to the hostelry, he went in search of him, but did not find him until the city gates closed, and then he came galloping in from the London road, his horse covered with foam, and himself almost exhausted from want of food and the exertion and discomfort of the day. At the sight of Miles, however, he sprang from his horse, exclaiming, "Thank God you are safe at least; but I began to think that she-wolf had somehow spirited you away. She has gone, I am sorry to say, and is half way to London by this time I fear."
"Who is?" asked Miles, fearing his friend's wits had wandered a little.
"My niece, Mistress Cicely Guildford. My watchman saw them leave the convent soon after we went to the hostelry, but, as I had bidden him abide at his post until I saw him, he could not leave to give me notice of what had happened."