Simon looked inquiringly at his better half, and to his discomfiture, she stolidly returned the glance. Neither of them appeared to know anything of his whereabouts. In the scuffle and worry of the time he had been forgotten, and they had to make the best defence they could.
"Methinks he is paying a visit to some fair damsel of the town, Sir Henry, with his dulcimer," suggested the dame. "I saw him with the music some while before the gates were closed."
"He was prating this and that to me, my lord," added Simon, who found his tongue at length, "until I threatened to whip him. He sneaked away quick enough then, ha, ha!"
"Ha, ha!" laughed the knight, as he divested himself, with Simon's aid, of his riding coat, "he would order thee about, eh? But, by my faith, man, I am hungry, I swear. I am quite ready to sup when I have seen my prisoners."
Dame Greenwood took the hint and went out to procure the meal. "Sir Henry is in wonderful good humour to-night," she murmured, "and 'tis a good thing, too for Simon, that he is. What a fool he would be without me," and comforting herself with this reflection, she hastened to obey her lord's behests.
"Dorothy is in the tower?" asked Sir Henry as he ravenously fell upon his meal. "How is she now? Proud, I suppose, eh?"
"Humph! well enough, though a trifle obstinate."
"Well, we will go and see her. And Manners, what of him?"
"Ha! high and haughty. Rides the high horse, my lord. Has friends at
Court and friends all around coming to release him."
"A pretty tale, truly, Simon," laughed the knight, as he finished his hasty meal and ordered some more spiced wine to drink.