"Methought you said there was only a lady, good father?" cried Dick.
"This page counts for nothing," rejoined the priest. "The lady is Mistress Jane Lane, of Bentley Hall. I have promised her an asylum here for the night, and I am sure you will afford it her."
"There may be reasons why I should not remain here," said Jane, perceiving the king. "I will go on with you to Moseley Hall, good father."
"There can be nothing to prevent you from staying here, so far as I am concerned, fair mistress," observed Charles, who had risen from the table, but stood apart. "I am about to proceed on my journey immediately."
"Are you quite sure you had so decided before my arrival?" asked Jane.
"Quite sure," he replied. "Richard Penderel will tell you so."
"Who is this young man, Mary?" asked Father Huddlestone, looking very hard at the king. "He hath the dress of a woodward, but neither the look nor the manner of one."
"I will tell your reverence some other time," she replied, evasively.
"Perhaps your reverence can prevail on Mistress Jane Lane to sit down with us and share our supper," said Charles to Father Huddlestone.