'Did you see any signs of the ruffians as you came here?' asked Sir Hubert.
'Nay, not I. But then I was not looking for them. I was thinking of the new calf that came this morning. Do you not know, young sir, that what we are thinking of, that is what we see?'
'Aye, aye.'
Sir Hubert looked at me, and I knew he was reflecting that he could see little else for thinking of me and my unfortunate plight.
'It seems a sorry tale for a knight to be running away from low country rabble,' muttered the old farmer.
Sir Hubert coloured.
'I feel ashamed of myself,' he said. 'But it was for the lady's sake. How would it have been with her if I had been killed? I was obliged to think of her precious life.'
'Well, well. I'm thinking you must both be pretty hungry. Will you come with me to my house, where my wife shall give you food?'
This was too good an offer to be refused, and we thankfully accepted it, and accompanied the old man to his farmhouse.
It was but a poor place, yet we were as glad to find ourselves in it, with the door bolted to keep out vagrants, as if we were in a palace. And very thankful we were to the farmer's wife when she placed milk and meat before us. I felt almost ashamed of the wonderful appetite I had; but indeed I was very, very hungry when I sat down to the table.