"Nay, not I; it seemeth to me I dream."
"Ay, marry, that wouldest thou soon, if indeed men do dream in that sleep which they call death," said the deep voice bitterly.
Ralph could not make out this dark figure. He had not looked at it during the fitful light which opened up that strange sight only to disappear in greater obscurity than before. He now tried to examine the form of him who uttered such enigmatical remarks in so well-cultured a voice.
He saw a tall figure, strong and well made, with a hood over its head, such as were worn by the courtiers of ages long gone by, and which Ralph had seen depicted in tapestry and illuminations of King Edward the Third's time. A tight-fitting tunic strapped at the waist by a belt, from which gleamed the hilt of a dagger, and the head of a small axe, showed he was both active and well-armed. But Ralph could see nothing of the man's face, or make out whether his clothes were of those of gentle birth or of the common stuff worn by the country men and labourers.
"Well, my master, and how long may it please you to stay here, and what may be your business?"
Ralph did not like the tone of bantering superiority the other assumed; he answered:--
"Marry, good fellow, what is that to thee? An thou canst tell me where I am, and whither to go to St Catherine's down, that is all I want of thee."
"So thou wouldest go to St Catherine's down, wouldest thou? And what may be your business there?"
"Thou art parlous curious, good knave," said Ralph haughtily. "I pray you ask me no questions, but tell me what I wish to know."
"Body o' me, this is a fine springald," said the other. "But before I tell thee what thou wouldest know, thou must tell me what I would know."