"The little lads of the village, Master Chanticleer, take it in turn to watch our cattle all night," said the widow to Ranulph. "We keep them some miles away along the valley where there is good pasturage, and the herdsman likes to come back to his own home at night."
"And these little boys are going to be out all night?" asked Ranulph in an awed voice.
"That they are! And a fine time they'll have of it too. They build themselves little huts out of branches and light fires in them. Oh, they enjoy themselves."
The children grinned from ear to ear; and when Hazel had provided each of them with some bread and cheese they scuttled off into the gathering dusk.
"I'd like to go some night, too," said Ranulph.
The widow was beginning to expostulate against the idea of young Master Chanticleer's spending the night out of doors with cows and village children, when Endymion Leer said, decidedly, "That's all nonsense! I don't want my patient coddled ... eh! Ranulph? I see no reason why he shouldn't go some night if it amuses him. But wait till the nights are warmer."
He paused just a second, and added, "towards Midsummer, let us say."
They sat on a little longer; saying but little, yawning a great deal. And then the widow suggested that they should all go off to bed.
There were home-made tallow candles provided for everyone, except Ranulph, whose social importance was emphasised by a wax one from Lud.
Endymion Leer lit it for him, and then held it at arm's length and contemplated its flame, his head on one side, eyes twinkling.