"No. All our Cornish folk are hospitable; besides, my money has not been taken from me. I can pay the good folk well."
She eagerly caught at my proposal, so eagerly that I wondered at her swift change of opinion. A few minutes later, therefore, I stood knocking at a farmhouse door, asking for food and shelter for man and beast.
At first both the farmer and his wife looked at us suspiciously, but when I told him of my deliverer's weariness, how that she had fainted and fallen from her saddle, they gave us a warm welcome. Half an hour later, I sat with these farmer folk at breakfast, but my companions, still keeping their hoods tightly drawn around their faces, had followed the woman of the house into another apartment.
After breakfast the farmer's wife provided me with a couch, in what she called "the pallor," where I gladly stretched my weary body and immediately fell asleep. When I awoke the afternoon was well advanced. Food was again placed before me, and after I had partaken thereof I went out into the farmyard to look after the horses. I had scarcely reached the stables when a sound reached my ears that made my heart sink like lead. It was the noise of many voices, and was not more than a mile away.
Without waiting a second I threw the saddles on the horses, and then rushed into the house. The farmer's wife had left the kitchen, leaving my companions alone. They were still closely hooded.
"Come," I cried, "we must start at this moment!"
"Why?"
"The hue and cry!"
"I am ready," she said, quietly but resolutely.
"Are the horses ready?"