John. Be you a-going in them fine buckled shoes, master?
Giles. I had forgot the shoes. When I get near to the house ’tis barefoot that I will go.
George. Then let us be off, master, for the’ time be running short.
John. Ah, that ’tis. I count it be close on noon-day now by the look of the sun.
Old Man. And heaven be with you, my young gentleman.
Giles. My good friends, you shall go with me a little further. And when we have come close upon the farm, you shall stop in the shelter of a wood that I know of and await the signal I shall give you.
George. And what’ll that be, master?
Giles. I shall blow three times, and loudly from my whistle, here.
John. And be we to come up to the farm when we hears you?
Giles. As quickly as you can run. ’Twill be the sign that I need all of you with me.