"You go 'an milk it."
"No, I'm not squire. I bet squires did the milkin'. Knights wu'n't of done the milkin'."
"I'll remember," said Ginger bitterly, "when you're squire, all the things wot you said a squire ought to do when I was squire."
They entered the field and gazed at the cow from a respectful distance. She turned her eyes upon them sadly.
"Go on!" said the knight to his reluctant squire.
"I'm not good at cows," objected that gentleman.
"Well, I will, then!" said William with reckless bravado, and advanced boldly upon the animal. The animal very slightly lowered its horns (perhaps in sign of greeting) and emitted a sonorous mo-o-o-o-o. Like lightning the gallant pair made for the road.
"Anyway," said William gloomily, "we'd got nothin' to put it in, so we'd only of got tossed for nothin', p'raps, if we'd gone on."
They walked on down the road till they came to a pair of iron gates and a drive that led up to a big house. William's spirits rose. His hunger was forgotten.
"Come on!" he said. "We might find someone to rescue here. It looks like a place where there might be someone to rescue."