"
"Why," replied old Bartlemy, slowly, as his gaze wandered from face to
face, "the esquire is the false priest from Oundle, and the young lady
is his novice."
At this reply a man from the rear elbowed his way to the side of the
innkeeper. "I know not how it may please thee," he said, "but, on the
Watling Street by the meat market two days and more agone, a man with a
bailiff to his help did stop a priest and his novice. And he did act
like a madman when he did discover that he had stopped the wrong
persons, and prated of a reward from the king which he must lose."
Old Bartlemy grinned as he listened. Seeing which the innkeeper pounced
upon him. "Were these the priest and his novice?" he asked fiercely.
"Yea, verily," answered old Bartlemy, proudly. "And they would have
been caught but for me. And now I know not whither they be gone," he
added disconsolately. "And perchance I shall see them no more; nor
shall I see the mole on the nose of the good Humphrey more; and so,
farewell to the fortune it might bring me."
"And who is the young lady?" said the innkeeper, with a fierce look.
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