The Remembered

Chapter Twenty-one

1456



The pounding hooves of John Darby's horse left deep prints in the muddy road. Despite the chilled morning air, the horse was wet with perspiration from the fast pace that John had kept throughout the night. It was still several miles to Aveley, the next village where John would allow his horse to rest before pressing on. John was pushing his horse as hard as he dared so that he could reach home as quickly as possible. He had heard rumors two days earlier about the battle of Stamford and had left Calais immediately. His primary concern was for Agnes, and his thoughts were on her as the great horse's thundering hooves carried him closer to home. He wondered whether she was okay. He knew well that when opposing forces occupied a towne, it could be particularly dangerous for women. He knew though that Agnes was a strong and intelligent woman and she was surrounded by servants that he trusted. Agnes had to be a strong woman to care for the estate and handle the trade while he was away. John remembered on another occasion when he was in Calais that a wolf ventured as far south as Stamford and was killing flock in the area. While the people of England had long been tormented by wolves, the wolves were now largely extinct, especially in the Midlands around Stamford and in the south counties.

Agnes had been taking a short walk near the estate when she unexpectedly came upon a wolf devouring a sheep. The wolf was caught by surprise as its focus had been on its meal. Agnes froze in mid-step when she saw the wolf. The wolf saw her almost immediately and raised its head and stared at her narrowly. Hair stood up on its back and its lips curled, baring sharp teeth as he let out a low and threatening growl. Agnes slowly backed away and was able to pick up a large stick. She knew that it could only offer little protection, but she kept it in front of herself just the same.

As soon as she was out of sight of the wolf, she ran for the house and called the servants. She ordered her horse readied and she rode with them in pursuit of the animal. With the help of the dogs, the wolf was cornered and one of the servants killed it.

'If Agnes culd face a wolf and nay faint,' John thought, 'surely she culd also face a human enemy with the same determination.'

With no warning, the great horse that John was riding went down and John flew over his head and onto the muddy road. The momentum caused John to roll several times before coming to a stop. For a moment he was dazed and lay still in the mud. The mud had cushioned the fall and he was unharmed. When he realized his circumstances, he jumped up and rushed back to his horse who was trying without success to stand. The horse had apparently broken a leg in a hole and it was not possible for him to rise. The great horse fought valiantly to get to his feet, but only managed to cover himself in mud and to dig a deeper hole. His eyes were wide with fright and great billows of steam exited his nostrils. It pained John to watch, unable to help his horse. John tried in vain to calm the beast. Eventually, the horse lay down in the muddy road after having exhausted his strength. John felt a lump in his throat and moisture in his eyes as he looked on his horse. This was more than a horse to John. They had spent everyday together for years and had traveled this same road many times. And now his friend lay in the mud with a broken leg. John knew that he could not leave the horse there to die a slow and painful death alone. With his horse laying still, John approached and knelt in the mud next to him.

John stoked the horse's head and whispered in his ear, 'I am so soory, me friend. You 'ave been a faithful companion. I am grateful to you for your service.'

John then searched the nearby roadway for the largest stone that he could heft over his head and carried near to his horse. As the brave horse looked into John's eyes, John felt that the horse sensed what was about to happen and John looked away. He stroked the horse's long mane and patted his back. The horse turned his head, presenting John with the opportunity to pick up the stone. He raised it high above his head and brought it down swiftly on his horse's forehead. The horse went limp and John turned his back. He wiped away the tears that started to flow down his face and looked around. He realized that he was miles from home and without a horse. He decided to walk to Aveley where he hoped to purchase a horse. It wouldn't be a great horse like the one that he loved, but it would get him home. He checked his pouch and determined that he had enough money to purchase a horse, but it would leave him short on lodging and food. He expected that he could eat bread rather than purchase cooked meals at public houses and he then would have sufficient funds to reach home.

It was late morning before he reached Aveley. It was a very small village with one public house. John went to the public house to inquire about the purchase of a horse.

Because it was still early in the day, there were few others in the public house.

'Gud dee, sir,' John said to the owner of the public house.

The man looked sternly at John and said, 'Oy, whot do you mean bringing that mud in 'ere anyway? At least remove your boots and cloak.'

'Pardon me, sir,' John said as he looked down at his muddy britches and boots. 'I lost me 'orse and took a tumble.'

'I do nay care aboot your 'orse, you will leave your muddy cloak and boots ootseed.'

Unaccustomed to such treatment, especially in front of others, and upset at the callous response to loosing his horse, John felt his face flush with a combination of embarrassment and anger. He wanted to lash out in response, but instead removed his cloak and boots and left them at the door.

Speaking to the owner of the public house again in a firm, even tone that underscored his frustration, John said, 'Now, sir, I 'ave muney enuf, may I 'ave sumething to eat?'

'Aye, 'ave a seat,' said the owner and brought John a plate of potatoes.

After eating John asked where he could purchase a horse. 'You can nay purchase a 'orse in Aveley,' replied the owner. 'Which way are you going?'

'I am 'eading north, toward Stamford,' replied John.

'Aye, those are dangerous parts. They 'ave war in those parts.'

'I am aware,' replied John. 'Where may I buy a 'orse?'

'You may find a 'orse in Rain'am, boot nay in Aveley,' stated the owner.

''ow far to Rain'am then?' asked John.

'Aboot 4 miles. Follow the London Road to the wood and 'ead north through the wood. You will find Rain'am just north of the wood.'

John rose from the table, thanked the owner and retrieved his cloak and boots. The articles were layered with drying mud. He beat the cloak against the side of the public house to loosen as much mud as he could. His britches were in the same condition. He didn't want to put the cloak on, but it still provided some protection from the chill.

He was about to start for the London Road, when a patron of the public house walked out the door and said, 'I 'eard you say that you need a 'orse.'

'Aye, that is true,' replied John. The stranger was not dressed in the garb of a peasant, in fact he was fairly well dressed. He also wore a fine cloak and hat. John noticed that he had a long knife at his side, but then so did most men of his apparent station.

'I 'ave a 'orse that I am willing to sell. Times are a lit'le 'ard and I culd use the extra muney.'

'And where is this 'orse?' asked John as he surveyed the road, not seeing a horse near the public house.

'Aye, me 'orse is tied in the back of the public 'ouse. Follow me.'

John followed the stranger to the back of the public house. There was a horse there. It wasn't a great horse as John was accustomed, but John expected that it would suffice.

''ow much?' asked John.

'Three pounds,' replied the stranger

'That is a lit'le dear,' replied John. 'The most I will give you is two pounds five shillings.'

'Two pounds ten shillings, or nuthing,' replied the stranger.

'Dune,' said John and he removed his pouch from his belt.

John hadn't noticed a second stranger standing around the corner of the public house when they walked up to the horse. As soon as John had removed his pouch, the second stranger sprang forward, grabbed the pouch and jumped onto the horse and rode quickly away. It happened so fast that John didn't even get a good look at the second stranger. The man who had the horse yelled at the second stranger and watched as he rode away.

John was upset at the loss of all his money and he grabbed the first stranger and accused him of working in concert with the thief.

'You thief,' shouted John. 'I will 'ave your 'ead for this.' Suddenly, John felt a knife pressing against his side and he released the stranger and stepped backward.

'I 'ave been robbed also, sir,' shouted the stranger. 'Me 'orse is gone!'

'Surely the thief is your friend and you both 'ave arranged this,' John said as he pulled his own knife from beneath his cloak and held it in front of himself.

'I assure you sir that we did nuthing of the sort. I 'ave never seen that man before. Boot, if you wish for me to prove me words with me knife, then so be it,' and he stepped forward toward John.

John squared his shoulders and planted his feet firmly. He unclasped his cloak with his left hand and cast it aside as the stranger circled to the right. The stranger made a half lunge at John and then jumped backward. John lunged forward and as he did, the stranger turned and ran toward the nearby woods. As he neared the woods, the supposed horse thief emerged from the woods on horseback and galloped toward him. The stranger swung himself up onto the back of the horse and the two rode away.

''ow culd I 'ave been so daft?' John shouted as he stomped around in the mud, all the while yelling at the world. He threw his knife into the side of the public house and kicked the mud.

After he calmed a bit, he took note of his situation and realized that it was not good. He was a very long way from home, without a horse and without money. At least his belly was full for the time being.

John picked up his muddy cloak and retrieved his knife. With no money, there was no point in going to Rainham, so John instead headed north. After walking for several miles he became aware of blisters forming on his heels and toes. The boots that he was wearing were good for riding, but not much for walking.

It was well after dark by the time that he reached Epping. The meal that he had eaten earlier in the day seemed like a distant memory and the hunger that he was starting to feel was as unusual to his experience as a drought was in England. His feet were feeling raw from the blisters and so he found a small stream to rinse them off and to ease the pain. The water was cold, but had a soothing effect on his sores.

Since he didn't have any money, he would have to spend the night outside. He couldn't remember the last time that he had done that, or whether he ever had done so. John studied the dark sky and could see some stars, so he expected that it probably wouldn't rain. He found a smooth place beneath an oak tree, and since he didn't know how to build a fire, he laid down, wrapped his cloak around himself and tried to sleep. It was a cold night and seemed to him that he didn't get any sleep at all. John thought about Agnes and he longed to be beside her in a warm bed. He wasn't certain that he had ever been as cold as he was that night.

As the night passed, it became colder, until the biting chill drove John from his bed. He decided that he could only stay warm if he was walking, so he wrapped his cloak more tightly about himself and started walking the road in the same direction that he had been walking before dark.

Mercifully, the morning eventually came, and the sun rose, but it wasn't any warmer and it wasn't much easier to see. A fog had enveloped the area, making it impossible to see more than a hundred yard. Nevertheless, John welcomed the glowing rays of the sun with more gladness and appreciation that he had ever felt before. He was limping now from the constant pain in his feet. At mid morning, he decided that the only way to get relief from the pain was to cut out the offending portions of the boots. Sitting on a rock, he removed his boots and with his knife he cut out a portion of each heel. He also removed a small oval of leather where the big toe rubbed and a similar oval from where the little toe rubbed. He was pleased with the results when he put the boots back on.

As he stood to continue on the road, he saw something moving faintly in the fog across the field. He could make out a group of four shapes and knew that they must be horses and riders. The group was coming nearly directly to him. Soon the riders were close enough that John could make out two men and two women. His heart was cheered at the prospect of meeting people of his own station in life and receiving sustenance from them.

As the group drew near, John called out to them, 'Oy, kind sirs and ladies.' The group slowed their horses to a walk and stopped near him. 'I am 'appy to see you,' said John. 'I am John Darby of Stamford, a merchant of the Staple of Calais. I 'ave lost me 'orse and 'ave been robbed. Please, I am 'ungry and tired.'

The group looked on him with disgust and one of the men said to the others, 'Luk at this beggar covered in mud and shoes with 'oles. 'e is repulsive.'

'Aye,' agreed the other man. 'Shall we fetch the dogs?'

John stood erect and addressed the group again with more urgency. 'I am John Darby of Stamford. I am 'ungry and tired. Please gud sirs, I must eat.'

The group laughed and one of the women said to the men, 'Per'aps we culd get 'im a lit'le food.'

'Nay,' responded one of the men. 'it is too far back to the 'ouse. Whot 'ave we to do with 'im?'

'Please, which way is the 'ouse?' asked John. 'I do nay mind walking there.'

The woman that hadn't spoken to that point put her nose in the air and spurred her horse on as she said, 'There is plent'y of food with the pigs. You are welcome to it.' At that, the group laughed and followed her into the fog.

'Please, I beg you,' called John, but the group rode away laughing.

John felt the same anger and embarrassment rise up within him as he had felt the previous day at the public house. He looked up and yelled, 'God, why are you doing this to me?' and then he sat down and placed his head in his hands. He remained that way for sometime before he stood and resumed walking.

Fog hung thickly in the air, causing trees to take on ghostly appearances. John walked for what seemed several miles, looking up from the road only occasionally. He was at first startled when he became aware of creatures silently watching him through the fog, but then he realized that there were deer all around him. There must have been a hundred of them. He knew that he must have wandered onto an estate. He considered trying to kill a deer with a stone, but knew that would likely be fruitless and tampering with the animals on an estate would be punishable with a harsh jail sentence.

He took courage, hoping that at this great house he would fine relief and care. In the blanket of fog, it was not clear that he would be able to find the house, but as he walked on, a large estate house seemed to rise out of the fog like a mountain.

John approached the house with anticipation and pounded on the large doors at the entry. After several moments a servant answered the door.

'Please, may I 'ave sume food.'

'We do nay serve beggars at this 'ouse,' came the reply.

'I am nay a beggar, I am John Darby of Stamford, Lincolnshire county. I must see your master.'

'Wait 'ere,' said the servant.

Several minutes later the owner of the estate came to the door. 'Whot is it then?' he asked gruffly.

'I John Darby of Stamford, Lincolnshire county. I lost me 'orse and was robbed. I am withoot food or lodging. Will you 'elp me?'

The Lord of the house looked out into the fog as though he were looking for someone. ''ow do I know that whot you tell me is true and that you are nay a common beggar? You luk like a common beggar. Luk at your filthy clothes and 'oles in your boots.'

'I am a merchant of the Staple of Calais and was on me way back from France when I was robbed. Please gud sir, I am 'ungry and tired.'

Again the man looked out into the fog. ''ow do I know that you and your friends will nay rob me?'

'I 'ave no friends,' replied John urgently. 'I 'ave nuthing.'

'Aye, you are a beggar,' shouted the lord of the estate. 'Off with you, before I release the dogs.' He then yelled for his servant to get the dogs.

John turned and ran as best he could with his blistered feet and ragged boots. He hadn't gone far when he could hear the barking of dogs. He considered climbing a tree, but decided instead to run through the herd of deer to cause them commotion, hoping that it would throw the dogs off his scent. He could hear the dogs stop barking momentarily as they searched for his trail. Soon they started barking again and he knew that they were coming. He ran down a sloping hill of grass and at the bottom was a creek. The dogs wouldn't be able to follow his scent in the water so, despite the coldness, he ran in the creek as far as he dared. He had entered a thickly wooded area that would keep the dogs from running along the bank of the creek and thus slow them down. He nearly ran headlong into a low hanging branch of an oak tree that appeared suddenly out of the fog. The tree stood near the bank of the creek. Lifting himself out of the water and into the tree, he climbed as high as he could and sat on a limb.

Soon the dogs passed by the base of the tree searching the ground for his scent without success. He waited for a long time after they were gone before he dared climb out of the tree. He was so cold from the water that he could not feel his numb feet. His trousers were soaked to the knees and his cloak was also wet on the bottom. At times, he thought that he would lose his grip on the branches due to his frozen fingers. Slowly, he made his way down out of the tree and retraced his steps along the creek. He soon came to the road and hurried north, away from the estate.

The fog had lifted, but it would be dark before long and it appeared that John would spend another hungry and cold night out in the elements. With the fog lifted, John noticed in the lengthening shadows that the field he was passing was full of ripened corn. Gratefully, he hobbled to the field and picked an ear and hurriedly removed the outside leaves. He devoured the corn rapidly and picked another and another until he is hunger was satisfied. It was only then that he realized that it may have been the first time that he had taken something that was not his own. He then thought of a poor farmer who had 'borrowed' a chicken and the harshness with which he had dealt with him.

In the twilight he could see a barn beyond the field of corn and he was drawn to it despite the possibility of dogs. The barn didn't have any animals in it, but contained large amounts of straw. John was surprised at his own excitement at the prospect of sleeping in a bed of straw. It would be a soft bed and warmer than being outside.

He slept well and rose before daylight so that he could be on the road before being seen. When he tried to put his boots on, his feet were swollen and he could not manage it. Walking barefoot was not a good option, but he thought of a solution. Using his knife, he cut off the lower section of his cloak and tied it to his feet. He admitted to himself that he now looked like a beggar, but the cloth felt much better than the boots had. He carried the boots with him, hoping that his feet would feel better in a few days.

Passing through the field again, he picked some ears for breakfast and saved some for lunch, but by dinner time, he was very hungry and fatigued. After spending another cold night in a wooded area, he continued his walk. When he passed a stream that day, he was surprised by the image that was projected back at himself in the water. His hair was unkempt and whiskers were covering his face. He looked down at his clothing and saw a tattered cloak and ragged cloth where there should be shoes. He wasn't sure that he recognized himself and wondered whether he would trust someone that looked that way.

He saw that he was nearing a village and determined that he would ask some peasants for help, perhaps he would have more success. Near the village, just outside the woods, stood a small stone cottage with a thatched roof. The road that John was on passed close to the door of the cottage. As he approached the cottage, he thought of Easton-on-the-hill and the cottage of the Eastons. The thought took him back to when he was a boy and times were more simple. For the first time in days, a slight smile crossed his lips as he thought of the fun games that he had played with Richard and Geva at their cottage. Those days seemed so long ago and a lifetime away. It was a wistful thought as he for the first time regretted loosing Richard and the Easton's from his life.

John was met at the door by an old woman. She was bent with age and the labor of years was written on her face.

'Gud dee,' John said, 'can you spare a wee amount of food. I have been walking for dees, I 'ave no muney and am very 'ungry.'

'Where did you comb from then?' asked the old woman, 'Where are you 'eaded?'

'I am from Stamford in Lincolnshire county. I 'ave been in Calais, boot I lost me 'orse in a fall.'

The old woman studied John and didn't say anything. He was filthy and ragged. His heart sank at the thought of rejection again and he lowered his head and turned back toward the road.

'Comb in then,' John heard the old woman say. 'I do nay 'ave much, boot I can add sume wat'er.'

If the stew was watered down, John didn't notice as he shoveled in spoonful after spoonful. He thought that it was the best meal that he had eaten and it was only after his bowl was empty that he looked up to see the old woman watching him with her gray eyes. With the worst of his appetite satisfied, John was embarrassed at his rudeness.

'May God bless you, me dear lady,' John said. 'Please excuse me rudeness.'

'I am no lady, and you are no commoner,' replied the old lady.

'Nay, you are a lady and todee I am commoner. I am in your debt,' said John, and he meant it. John related to her his experiences at the estates where he had asked for help.

'Aye, they only 'elp...' She was going to say that those of higher station only help their own kind, but stopped herself short remembering that she was speaking to one of them.

'...Their own kind, is whot you mean to say,' observed John, finishing the sentence for her. 'Aye, I agree, it is so.' John thought about his own actions and that he generally was only interested in helping those who might be of benefit to him in some way. He thought about the commoner that had taken a chicken and how he had sent him to jail. Suddenly he understood the value of a meal and what a person might do to secure one. He understood with a clarity that had alluded him his entire life.

With less distraction from his hunger, he looked around at the humble surroundings that the old woman called home. Two chairs, a small table, a dirt floor, one pot at the fire, a small quantity of wood, a straw mattress on the floor and nothing else. John stood and walked to the fireplace and peered into the pot, it was empty. He felt a tightness in his chest and moisture in his eyes as he realized that the old woman would not be eating any of the meal that she had prepared.

'Where will you sleep tonight?' asked the old woman.

'I 'ave no place to sleep.'

'It will be cold, boot you can stay in the shed.'

That was the best offer John had received in several days and he was happy to accept. The old woman also gave him an herbal ointment for use on his blistered feet.

'Gud lady, allow me to chop sume wood for your fire,' offered John.

As he chopped the wood in the gathering darkness, he thought about the life that the old woman must have known. Hunger was probably not a stranger to her. He had noticed that her hands were frail, but calloused from daily work. She must have known little leisure in her life. John had seen no indication of family. Was the woman alone? Did she have children? Who would care for her? His own mother had received plenty of care from her servants in her old age. Because of the servants, he had been required to provide little care for her himself.

'Surely common people 'ave lit'le time to think aboot anything except securing their next meal,' he thought. Until the recent days, he had given little thought concerning his next meal. He couldn't remember ever missing a meal and assumed that others experience was the same.

It was dark by the time that he had stacked the wood and had straightened a place in the shed to sleep. That night, before he fell asleep, he prayed in thanksgiving for the meal, the soft bed and the kindly old woman. He also prayed for Agnes' care and safety. 'Dear God,' he prayed, 'please forgive me for me arrogance and pride. Please see me through another dee and bring me 'ome safely to Agnes.'

The next morning John looked at his feet and they were greatly improved. The blisters were not so raw and open as they had been and his feet were not so swollen. The cloth that he had wrapped around them was worn out and so he cut off some more of his cloak and wrapped his feet.

Outside the shed, he found some more ointment and a loaf of bread wrapped in a cloth. He couldn't remember ever receiving a more kind gift. He smiled and held the items close to his chest in appreciation. Then he walked to the road and headed north.

For the next several days John relied on the goodness of strangers, peasants, who had little themselves, but were willing to share what they had. His feet improved with each application of the ointment until he was able again to wear his boots.

Eventually, John was in Cambridge. He was excited because he knew that Cambridge was only a few days walk to Stamford and home. Cambridge was a busy towne and the streets were full of people. The university played an important role in the towne and there were many students among the inhabitants of the towne. John was quite familiar with Cambridge, having been there many times as a student.

As John walked through the streets, he was brush aside by people of status. He was getting accustomed to treatment such as this and it bothered him less. He turned onto a street that had been very familiar to him as a student. When he turned the corner, he ran into a group of young college men.

'Oot of me way, peasant,' one of them shouted as he pushed John to the side. The shove caused John to tumble into one of the other students. That student pushed him again and John lost his footing and fell to one knee.

'Oy, luk at 'is boots, they 'ave been nibbled on by mice,' said one of the students.

The first student picked John up by pulling on his shirt. Looking him in the eye, the student said, 'Did the mice get your tongue also, can you nay speak?' Then he pushed John back to the ground.

The group of students lost interest and moved on leaving John to pick himself up. Standing to his feet, he watched the group walking away and he was surprised at his feelings. He wasn't angry with the students and he wasn't embarrassed. Instead, he felt sorrow for them. He felt sorrow for their immaturity and also sorrow that they would likely go through their lives treating others with contempt. He mostly felt sorrow for himself though, because he saw himself in the action of the lads.

John looked at the street and directly across was a public house that he had been in many times before. Peasants had been so good to him the last several days, but he longed for the hot meal of a public house. He walked across the street an looked into the window. 'If only me 'ad a few pence,' he thought, 'I culd go inseed and enjoy a 'ot meal.

His gaze was naturally drawn toward the fire and he focused on a man sitting near to the fireplace. He looked oddly familiar to John, but why? John watched the man for a few moments. It appeared that he had just finished his meal. John wished it were himself with a fully belly from a hot meal. He turned and walked on, still wondering who the stranger was.

John hadn't gone far before it occurred to him who the man near the fireplace was. He turned around abruptly and rushed back to the public house where he intended to confront the man. John pushed open the door swiftly just as the man from the inside pulled the door open. The unexpected ease of opening the door threw John off balance and he collided with the man that he was seeking, startling them both.

'You thief,' John asserted, grabbing the man by the throat and shaking him. ''ow did you get away?' The man struggled to speak, but John did not release his grip. 'I will see that the sheriff knows aboot you.' With that, John grabbed his arm and dragged him outside. The other man coughed and gasped for air and stumbled along as John pulled him. Finally, the man could speak.

'I am nay a thief! John, it is I, Richard! I did nay steal your pouch! John, I am Richard Easton of Easton-on-the-'ill!'

John stopped and released his grip and turned to face Richard. He studied Richard's face closely and when recognition set in, he grabbed Richard and held him close. 'Richard, me friend. Is it really you? 'ow did you comb to be in Cambridge?'

Richard looked at John's worn and cut boots, his tattered cloak and filthy clothing. He looked as much like a peasant as Richard had ever seen.

'John, whot 'as 'appened to you?'

'I was robbed and I lost me 'orse.'

'Comb inseed and let me buy you a hot meal,' insisted Richard.

Once inside, Richard related to John the circumstances of how he had tried to stop John from being robbed on the ship and how he had escaped after being mistaken for a thief. John told Richard of his fallen horse and that he had been robbed, and he told to him of his experiences in traveling with no money.

'ow is it then,' asked John 'that you 'ave muney to buy this meal?'

'I am a glazier, remember. I 'ave repaired a window or two when I 'ave need and I 'ave enuf for a room and for food.'

'I am grateful to you, Richard,' said John. ''ave you nay 'eard of the bat'le of Stamford?'

'Aye, I 'ave, boot I 'ave no other news. I am anxious to get 'ome.'

'Aye, I am worried for me wife, Agnes. You wuld like me wife, she is a strong woman.'

'Aye, as is me Margaret. If Agnes is strong, she will be fine,' Richard assured him.

'May I travel with you, Richard? I am nay of much 'elp. I can nay repair a window, or anything else, boot I can now walk fast.'

'Absolutely, you will travel with me. We are nay from 'ome now. I 'ave enuf muney to get us there and we will nay 'ave to sleep in barns,' said Richard with a slight smile.

The two men traveled the next three days together and renewed their friendship. It was late in the night when the two arrived at Easton-on-the-hill.

'I wuld 'ave you in to meet me Margaret,' said Richard, 'boot, the cot'age is dark and all must be asleep.'

'Aye, she wuld nay like to meet me tonight and I am anxious to get 'ome. I do nay wish to be away from Agnes one more moment.'

'Until we meet again, then,' replied Richard.

'Aye and it will nay be long,' John promised. 'I am glad that your parent's cot'age is fine. It appears that Easton-on-the-'ill escaped the bat'le's fury.'

'Aye and I 'ope the same is true of your 'ome,' offered Richard.

With that, the two friends parted company.