“They’re all padrolling us, my lady, same as they were last night. They got the oats from Farmer Raynes, and they think they’re going to starve us by stopping everything else from coming in; but we can afford to laugh at ’em for about three months; and at the end of that time, if Sir Granby don’t come and raise the siege, I’ve got an idee for trapping enough meat for the men.”
“Indeed!”
“Yes, my lady,” said Ben, with a grin. “Only to lower the drawbridge and hyste the portcullis, to let a whole court-yard-full ride in. Then drop the grating behind ’em, and they’re trapped. After that we can make ’em lay down their arms, turn ’em out, and keep their horses. They’ll do to feed the men. I’ve eaten horse, and Sir Granby too, at a pinch, and it aren’t so bad; but o’ course I’d rather have beef.”
“Then there is nothing to fear for the present?”
“Aren’t nothing to fear at all, past, present, or futur’, my lady, so don’t you be uncomfortable. And as for Master Roy, he needn’t go thinking no nonsense o’ that sort about the men, for they just worship him, all of ’em, and that’s the honest truth.”
“I believe it, Martlet. Have you breakfasted this morning?”
“Had a chunk o’ bread and a mug o’ milk, my lady.”
“That is not enough for a busy man like you are. Sit down to that table, and eat.”
“What, here, my lady! Oh, no, I couldn’t presume!”
“Hush! Do not speak so loud,” said Lady Royland, smiling. “These are not times for standing upon ceremony, Martlet. We women cannot fight; but we can help in other ways, above all in attending to our brave defenders, and seeing that they have all that is necessary. And if the worst comes to the worst, and—”