“I wished to see thee,” murmured Francis rising. “Forgive me. I wished——”
“There!” said Mary. “’Tis no matter. Barbara,” to her companion, “hast thou the purse? Give the lad a groat. Marry! thou art all alike. Ye wish bounty whether ye deserve it or not. Go, and trouble me no more.”
She turned as she spoke and without another glance at the girl passed back to the house. Francis stood looking at the coin for a moment undecided what to do for she saw that Will’s cart was nowhere in sight.
“Get thee gone,” said the guard coming toward her menacingly. He had overheard Mary’s remarks and noted her demeanor, and thought that the carter lad before him was really seeking to profit by Mary’s well-known generosity. “Go, fellow! or I will take thee to my master. And if thou troublest the lady again, I will run thee through with my rapier. Go!” 79
Without a word in reply, glad to have the matter end so, Francis followed him meekly as he led her to the kitchen doors where Will and other carters were busy unloading their wagons.
“With which of you came this fellow?” demanded the guard.
“With me, master,” spoke Will sullenly.
“See that he accompanies thee no more. ’Tis a mischievous wight and like to get into trouble. Quick with thy load. I wish to see thy cart safely beyond the gates.”
“Will,” said Francis when they were once more outside the gates, “art angry with me?”
“Ay! ’twere an ill turn that thou did serve me,” growled Will. “’Twere an ill turn, master.”