“You, Master Hungerford, are you a King’s man?”
Master Paul was vehement in asseveration.
“I am a King’s man, hook and eye.”
“Then,” Brilliana assumed, “’tis Master Rainham must fare in chains to Oxford.”
Master Rainham, staring at her over Clupp’s paw, had such appealing terror in his eyes that Brilliana pitied him.
“’Tis your turn now,” she said. “Let him give tongue, Clupp.”
Clupp withdrew his hand and Master Rainham gurgled:
“I proclaim myself a faithful subject of the King. Let that dog trot to Oxford.”
“You matchless basilisk!” screamed Master Paul at him, and “You damnable mandrake!” retorted Master Peter. The pair would have flown at each other if they could have wriggled free. But as they could not they perforce resigned themselves to hear what Brilliana would say next.