He knew that the way was not particularly safe for them
anywhere. "If it should be discovered that we have been at
Peterborough," he said at length.
"Yea, lad," broke in Humphrey. "I had not thought of that. But would
they not straight seek for us at St. Albans, where the merry-hearted
canon hath sent us? And neither did I like the parish priest at Oundle.
He did speed us too gladly. And he knoweth that we go to St. Albans."
"Thou mayest be right, Humphrey," said Hugo. "It will doubtless cost
the monks at St. Albans small grief if they do not see us. We will go
to London as thou sayest."
Humphrey regarded him approvingly. "It is easy to see that thou art far
from being a fool," he said. "Hiding and skulking through wood and fen
are making thee wary."
The two now resumed their journey, and Humphrey asked, "Hast ever been
on this Watling Street?"
"Nay," replied Hugo. "I was bred up, as thou knowest, by mine uncle,
the prior, and all my travels have been by ear. What I did hear him
speak of I know, but not much else."
"And he did never speak of the Watling Street?"
"Yea, he hath oft spoken of it.
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