"Oh no, 'twas not for that I feared," replied Iola. "'Twas the great risk to yourself. I thought of."
"No great risk, I trust," answered the other. "My face will not betray me in this part of the world: The night is too nigh for strangers to come in; and what this good man has said will smooth the way for us. I can talk deftly of the good Lord Calverly, and speak of Richard's overwhelming force, and Richmond's little band, as calm and scornfully as Lovell or Catesby, nor ever seem to think that right and justice, and God's vengeful strength, can make head against a glittering army and a kingly crown. Let us go on. I can play my part well. Do not forget yours, however. Speak to me, order me as a gentleman of your uncle's household, and, above all forget the words 'my lord.' This night, at least, we will dry our garments by the fire.--To-morrow, my resting place may be a damper one."
"But by what name shall I call you?" asked Iola.
"Call me Harry--Harry Vane," answered her companion; "but, I beseech you, remember that all depends on care and prudence; and if I make any mistake in my due service, rate me well. Be a mere shrew towards me for this night, though you be gentle as a dove, to my good friend Lord Chartley."
With many doubts and apprehensions, Iola yielded to the plan, and, mounting her horse, rode through the still pouring rain, with the stranger by her side and Ibn Ayoub directing them on the way. Many things were arranged as they went, and the good Arab cautioned, which indeed he did not require. They did not reach the door of the house, to which he led them, before the sun had completely set; but as they turned towards the west, they saw a golden gleam on the horizon's edge, and showing that the storm was breaking away.
Timidly, Iola opened the door of the house, which was a large one for the times and the class of people to which it belonged, while the Arab gathered the bridles of the horses on his arm, and the stranger followed a step behind the lady. The scene within alarmed her more than ever; for it was not like the little quiet farm house she had visited in the morning. The outer door opened at once into the kitchen, a large dingy room well grimed with smoke; and round a table sat three or four stout, heavy-looking, countrymen, together with a handsome youth, somewhat better dressed, while two or three young girls were working busily at various household matters, and a stout dame, with gown tucked up, was taking off, with her own hands, a heavy pot, from a hook that suspended it above the fire.
"Hey, mother, mother!" cried the young man, turning round his head, "here's the lady the brown man told you of."
"Ha," said the good woman, setting down the pot and gazing at Iola with a look of wonder, either at her beauty or the richness of her apparel. "Well, I wot you are not fit, my lady, to pass the night in woods and thunderstorms."
"No, indeed," answered Iola. "One of my attendants told me you would kindly give me shelter for the night, and I will most gladly pay for any accommodation I receive. I was making my way to Lichfield, thinking to escape from all these scenes of strife; but it is too late, I find, to go on."
"Ay, that it is," answered the bluff dame; and, at the same moment, the stranger whispered--