"Yes, it be. Howsoever 'e bain't seen we, so let's get the cart back to t' roaad."
Who the mysterious "'e" might be I could not discover; one of the king's officers, perchance, though in this lawless district they rarely ride alone.
The task of getting the cart back to the roadway was longer than the men had reckoned upon, and when at length they succeeded, one remarked in a breathless voice that dawn was breaking.
Soon the light was sufficient for me to see out of my spyhole. We were descending a steep hill, and on one side towered a lofty down, round which the white mists of morning still hung like fleecy clouds.
"'Tis no use to go to Wareham," remarked one of the men. "We'd be stopped, sure as faate."
"That's so," replied the other. "There's but one thing to do."
"What's that?"
"Leave the stuff at Carfe and take caart home."
"Where?"
"Where! Why, in the castle, ye dolt!"