"Draw a sword or charge a pike!" exclaimed Sam. "Art thou going to make war, woodman?"
"May not the abbey need defence in these troublous times?" demanded Boyd. "Know you not, that I am bailiff now, as well as head woodman? Canst thou ride a horse, I say?"
"That can I," answered the man. "In my young days I rode the wildest. Would I had wild or tame to bear me now, for I hobble painfully."
"Well, then, thou shalt have one," said Boyd; "and, when thy journey is done, keep him for thy pains. But mark me, thou shalt promise, on thy soul and conscience, to drink nought but water till thou hast delivered my message----"
"'Tis a hard oath," said the piper. "I took one like it once before; and I was forced for a fortnight after to double the pint stoup, to make up for lost time. Well, well, I will take it."
"That is not all," answered Boyd. "Thou shalt promise me, moreover, to utter no word regarding whom the message comes from, neither to mention my name, describe my person, nor tell my abode; but simply to seek that lady, and tell her that the fate of the person for whom she has so long enquired may still be heard of, and that you can lead her to one who can give her all the tidings she desires."
"And bring her hither?" demanded Sam.
"No," answered the woodman. "First, let me be assured, if you really know where the Lady Iola is. Tell me how you discovered her, and where. Do not hesitate; for it must be told."
"Nay, I hesitate not," answered the piper, "for thou wert there too; so I can little harm her. One night, as I was passing through the wood which lies between Atherston and Alanstoke--you know the wood right well, not the first coppice, but the bigger wood beyond--I heard a sound of singing. There were many voices; and, as I love music, I crept up, when in the little glade, beside the stream that runs into the Tamworth water, I saw some thirty people, men and women too, singing right sweetly. I know not well what songs they were--assuredly not the canticles of the church--but yet they seemed pure and holy; for ever and anon they praised God's name, and gave him honour and glory. They prayed too, but in the English tongue; and I could not help thinking it were better if all men did the same in the land. Sure I am, if they did so, they would know better what they say than when they pray in Latin; and, though people, no doubt, would call the meeting Lollardy, I liked it well. Then, when they parted company, I saw the Lady Iola, for she was one, walk away between two men. One was about your height, good man Boyd. The other, I knew by his long white beard--the good old franklin, Elias Ames. There was a lad followed, to see that no one watched, I fancy; and he seemed to me wondrous like the son of the gardener at the abbey. But I tricked his vigilance, and followed round by the other path, till I saw the Lady Iola and the good old franklin go into his pretty wooden house, with the woodbine over the door, while the others went their way. Next morning, soon after day-break too, I saw the lady peep forth from the window, through the honeysuckles, looking, to my mind, far sweeter than they."
"Well, then," said the woodman, after meditating for a moment, "go to the lady I have mentioned; tell her what I have said, but not who said it; and lead her to that house with as few followers as may be. There she will hear more."