CHAPTER III.
[THE FOREGONE EVENTS.]
"Come, Richard of Woodville," said his companion, as soon as they entered the chamber of the rose-tapestry, "let us be friends. You have served me at my need; and I would fain serve you; but I must first know how."
"Faith, sir, that is not easy," answered Woodville, "for I do not know how myself."
"Well, then, I must think for you, Richard," rejoined Hal of Hadnock; "what stays your marriage?"
Woodville gazed at him with some surprise, and then smiled. "My marriage!--with whom?" he asked.
"Nay, nay," answered his new friend, "waste not time with idle concealments. I am a man who uses his eyes; and I can tell you, methinks, all about every one in the hall we have just left."
"Well, stay yet a moment, till we can be alone," replied Woodville; "they will soon bring you a livery of wine and manchet bread."
"In pity stop them," cried Hal of Hadnock; "I have supped so late that I can take no more." But, as he was speaking, a servant entered with a cup of hot wine, and a small roll of fine bread upon a silver plate. As bound in courtesy, the guest broke off a piece of the manchet, and put the cup to his lips; but it was a mere ceremony, for he did not drink; and the man, taking away the rest of the wine and bread, quitted the room.
"Now, Richard, you shall see if I be right," continued Hal of Hadnock. "There is one pretty maid, called Mary Markham, or I heard not your uncle right, whose cheek sometimes changes from the soft hue of the rose's outer leaves, to the deep crimson of its blushing breast, when a certain Richard of Woodville is near; and there is one good youth, called Richard of Woodville, who can whisper sweet words in Mary Markham's ear, while his uncle holds converse with a new guest at a distance."