'I do believe,' she said tremulously, acting on a swift inspiration, 'I do believe I am hungry.'
Roger dropped his hand and turned his head away, and leaning over, Marion tried to unbuckle one of his saddlebags. Soon her companion became aware of her action. Hastily he dismounted. From the bag he drew out a flask of wine and a wallet of food.
'Venison pasty!' said he, staring at the piece Marion offered him. He snatched at it with an eagerness that went to her heart. Half-way to his lips he withdrew it. 'I am a brute!' he said. 'Forgive me. Where is yours?'
'Here. We have one each. Now I shall give you just five minutes, sir.'
Marion smiled down at the upturned face, but her hint brought Roger back to the present. He mounted again, and the two moved forward at a gentle pace, eating and talking as they rode. In a few words Marion explained her plans on his behalf.
'So you are going to banish me to the high seas,' said Roger at the end.
Marion was silent a minute. Then, rousing herself: ''Tis strange by what crooked means a man's fate overtakes him. Do you remember that day on the headland when the Fair Return set sail? My father always said that being a sailor bred and born you would in the end go to sea.'
The slight meal finished, they set their horses at a trot over the springing turf.
'What about my mother?' said Roger. 'Can I not see her before I sail, think you?'
'If we get down to Garth untroubled, perhaps yes. But we may have a close run for it.'