He went away by woodman’s path, and she to the ruined farm. “Eh, lass!” said Margery at dusk. “You can work when your mind’s to it!”
The third day from this Somerville and she were again in the wood. “I am going. It is trudge! All of you make a north wind that I set my back against and go! Nor will I cry for it, Somerville!”
“You have no need to. They shall give you money. Walk or ride in a cart from here through the later half of night, keeping disguise. Come to the port in a day or so and find there the King Arthur bound for London. Find, too, upon the ship Ailsa—”
Red flowed over her face. “Oh, the power that men, and honest men, own! It is enough to make one willing to sell soul to devil!”
He waved that aside. “It is for your own safety that you are going. And were I wholly wicked I should not be here, nor Ailsa at the port awaiting you—”
She said. “That is true. I thank you there, Rob!”
She broke a spray of hazel, set her teeth in the green wood, then threw it away. “Shall we say good-by now, you and I?”
“Not just yet. Something has arisen since we sat here the other day. I have seen Prior Matthew.”
“Aye?”