"Why, how now, sirrah! Dost thou slander the horse which is a gift from
Mother Church to the king's work? Thou art a knave, and no doubt art
but unfit for thy task this morn through over-late carousing last
night."
"Thou mayest call it carousing, if thou wilt," said the groom, sulkily.
"I did come from Gainsborough yesterday. And in the dark, as I did
come, I saw a flaming fire in the Isle of Axholme."
"And what meanest thou to tell me of that?" demanded Walter Skinner,
sternly. "Thou wert no doubt so drunk that a will-o'-the-wisp in that
boggy place did seem to thee even as a flaming fire. Why dost thou not
stand to my horse and get down with him? He hath already backed and
turned a matter of some miles."
The groom stopped and looked at him indignantly. "I may be but a
groom," he said, "but the Isle of Axholme I know from a child, every
bog in it. And I did go to the fire, which was a bit out of my way,
but, being my only pleasure on the journey, I did take it. And there on
the rushes lay a young lord, and his serving-man did feed the fire with
reeds."
"Thou didst see that?" cried Walter Skinner, in great excitement.
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