In the Days of Drake

by J. S. Fletcher

“Much better, if your honor pleases.”

So I dismounted and bade him take my cob round to his stable, and followed him myself to hear more news.

“What place is this?” I inquired.

“Beechcot, sir—a village of the Wolds.”

“And who owns it, landlord?”

“Sir Thurstan Salkeld, sir.”

“Is he alive and well, landlord?”

Now, whether it was my voice or the unwonted agitation in it that attracted his attention, I know not, but certain it is that when I asked this question Geoffrey Scales held up his light to my face, and after anxiously peering therein for a moment, cried out loudly:

“Marry, I knew it! ’Tis Master Humphrey, come home again, alive and well!” and therewith he would have rushed away to rouse the whole village if I had not stayed him.