"Marry, will you? Forsooth, this braggart is growing apace! I shall call whom I like what name I like; and if you think you are going to stop me, you had better try. So there, master upstart!" and Bowerman snapped his fingers in Ralph's face in utter contempt and malignant defiance.
As they were exchanging these hasty words, they were passing, on their way out of the lists, the little girl and her rough attendant. This latter eyed Bowerman significantly, and seeing that he did not notice him, for both Ralph and Bowerman were too heated with their words to take notice of anyone in the crowd, the man nudged the leg of the latter as he passed, and so drew his attention to him.
As soon as Bowerman saw who it was, he changed colour.
"Hullo, my Trojan, what do you want?" he said, assuming a careless air.
"Take this, 'twill tell its own tale," said the man, handing Bowerman a dirty scrap of paper.
Meanwhile Ralph had noticed the little girl, and seeing how pleased she seemed, he reined up his horse and spoke to her.
"Well, little maid, and where have you left your old father?"
An amused expression passed over the child's face, and her eyes shone with mischief, as she replied,--
"Ah, poor old man! He's so infirm, think you, as to be scarce able to walk? Well, 'twas very kind of you to lend us your pony, and you will never be sorry for it."
"Where do you live?" asked Ralph, surprised at her voice, and trying to remember where he had heard it.