The knight now turned to his daughter, and bid her retire to a recess in the cavern, where a couch, made of old sails and other lumber, served as a bed, before which a sail was hung as a curtain.
After the child had disappeared, the two men entered into a deep conversation in low tones.
"There be a story afloat of a new plot," said the man. "But there be naught in it, be there?"
"Maybe there is, but matters are not ripe yet. An we could only get Henry embroiled with France, we should have better help than from the Dowager of Burgundy. And I have hopes that he will send a force to aid the Bretons. But I can do naught until I have met Woodville."
"And when will that be, your worship?"
"Not for a few weeks, I fear me. He hath other matters, and this attack on his esquire hath put him out."
"Thou wast wondrous kind to the lad at the tilt. All men marvelled what could be the cause."
"A wish of my daughter's, as thou knowest. The lad was passing gentle to us as we came hither; and he is a good lad, and one of my own house too."
"But he's parlous sweet on Mistress Yolande, and there's them as says she means to marry him, and old Sir William is going to make him his heir."
The knight's face grew black.