“Ah, the fine gentleman! Run, find them. See, here——”
She showed him a manchet of white bread in the wallet.
“To-morrow you shall fire the oven and I will bake bread. Now, for the kitchen. Where shall we sup—out yonder among the roses?”
“What could be better?”
“Then take a saddle-cloth and spread it on the grass. I will follow.”
She came out to him there with a great pewter dish on which were wooden platters, a knife, the manchet of bread, a jar of honey, and two cups of maplewood. Fulk had the wine that Knollys had given him.
“This will serve—for a night.”
“Wine and honey and white bread. And yet I have no hunger in me, Isoult.”
She smiled in his eyes.
“Go, fetch the lute, while I lay the board.”