BELTANE. "Is there a village hereabouts?"
WALKYN. "Aye, five miles west by south is Brand-le-Dene. But there is a mill scarce a mile down stream, I wot."
BELTANE. "A mill? 'Twill serve—go ye thither. Here is money—buy therewith four hats and smocks the like that millers wear, and likewise four meal-sacks well stuffed with straw."
WALKYN. (rising) "Smocks, master? Straw and meal-sacks?"
BELTANE. "And haste, Walkyn. We must be far hence within the hour."
Forthwith up rose Walkyn and summoning divers of his company strode away down stream, what time Giles, staring after him in wonderment, thereafter shook his head at Roger. Quoth he:
"Tall brother and lord, now do I see that our Roger burneth for knowledge, panteth for understanding, and fain would question thee but that his mouth is full-crammed of meat. Yet do his bulging eyes supplicate the wherefore of smocks, and his goodly large ears do twitch for the why of sacks. O impatient Rogerkin, bolt thy food, man, gulp— swallow, and ask and importune my lord thyself!"
"Not I—not I!" quoth Roger, "an my master lacketh for a smock or a sack, for me is no question of wherefore or why, so long as he doth get them!"
"But the straw, Roger," said Giles, glancing askew at Beltane, "an thou should'st plague my lord with questions, how think ye then he shall answer of this straw?"
"Thus, thou crafty Giles," answered Beltane. "Belsaye is strong, but strength may be, perchance, beguiled. So may a miller's smock hide a shirt of mail, and straw, I have heard, will burn." "Oho, a wile!" cried Giles, "Aha! some notable wile! What more?"