"A little stiff about the joints, mine host," he replied, "for which I have thee to thank."
"Tush, man, don't mention it," laughingly returned the baron. "There's no question of thanks betwixt me and thee."
"They gave me some hot sack, and then rolled me in the river," whined De Lacey, "and the pity of it is I cannot remember which of them it was, or else I'd—I'd—"
Sir John de Lacey paused to consider what course of action he would have taken, but ere he had resolved, the door opened, and Sir Thomas Stanley entered, bringing in with him the Lady Margaret.
"Well, well," returned Sir George, "since it baffles thy wits to discover whom it was, thou hadst best have the grace of forgiveness, it will become thee well. But a truce to this. I came to counsel with you of the murder. Any more news, Sir Thomas?"
"I hear that the old hag, Durden, had a quarrel with the pedlar the day before his death," answered Stanley, "and she told him to his face that he would come to no gentle end."
"They have often quarrelled," added Margaret, who felt bound to add something to her lover's statement.
"Yes, then," said Sir George, "I have it now. I guessed it was her from the very beginning."
"Nay, nay," interrupted Dorothy, "you suspected the smith at first."
"Well, Doll, it makes no matter of difference if I did. 'Tis the old witch, sure enough, and she will either hang or drown for it, I swear."