"Where is he? Is he gone?"
"Where is who gone?"
This question was asked by some one who stood by the front door of the inn.
"The young stranger from London."
"Why, what hath he done?"
"Spirited away Master Leslie's daughter. Where is he?"
"In bed hours ago, I expect. He drank nought, but just listened to what the rest were saying."
"Hath he paid his count?"
"Nay. He hath had nought but boiled beef for his supper, and a pint of ale to wash it down. That is but a little matter. Then when he hath paid for his bed and breakfast, he will owe me but a crown."
"But is he in bed?"