The journey passed without any incident of importance, but Oswald had
reason to congratulate himself on having taken the monk with him. On
one occasion, as they were passing over a wild heath, a party of eight
or ten men, on rough ponies, rode up. They were armed with spears and
swords. They reined up with exclamations of disappointment as Roger,
who had rolled up his robe round his waist, for convenience of walking,
let it fall round him.
"You have played us a scurvy trick, monk," the leader said, angrily.
"Who was to guess it was a monk, who was thus striding along?"
"You would find it difficult to walk, yourself, with this robe dangling
about your heels," Roger said.
"Whither are you bound, and whence are you going?"
"We are travelling to Dunbar, being sent to the convent of Saint Magnus
there, and come from Roxburgh."
"'Tis a shame that so stalwart a fellow as you are should be leading a
drone's life, in a convent; when every true Scotsman is sharpening his
spear, in readiness for what may come when the truce with England
expires."
"I am glad to hear that you are so well employed," Roger replied; "but
methinks that, in days like these, it is sometimes useful to have a few
men of thews and sinews, even in a religious house; for there are those
who sometimes fail in the respect they owe to the Church."
"That is true enough," the men laughed. "Well, go thy way. There is
naught to be gained from a travelling monk."
"Naught, good friend, save occasionally hard blows, when the monk
happens to be of my strength and stature, and carries a staff like
this."
"'Tis a goodly weapon, in sooth, and you look as if you knew how to
wield it."
"Even a monk may know that, seeing that a staff is not a carnal
weapon."
And rolling up his sleeves, Roger took the staff in the middle with
both hands, in the manner of a quarterstaff, and made it play round his
head; with a speed, and vigour, that showed that he was a complete
master of the exercise.
"Enough, enough!" the man said, while exclamations of admiration broke
from the others. "Truly from such a champion, strong enough to wield a
weapon that resembles a weaver's beam, rather than a quarterstaff,
there would be more hard knocks than silver to be gained; but it is all
the more pity that such skill and strength should be thrown away, in a
convent. Perhaps it is as well that you are wearing a monk's gown, for
methinks that, eight to one as we are, some of us might have got broken
heads, before we gained the few pence in your pocket.
"Come on, men. Better luck next time. It is clear that this man is not
the one we are charged to capture."
And, with his followers, he rode off across the moor.
"I do not think that they are what they seem," Oswald said, as they
resumed their journey. "The man's speech was not that of a border
raider, and his followers would hardly have sat their horses so
silently, and obeyed his orders so promptly, had they been merely
thieving caterans; besides, you marked that he said you were not the
man they were watching for."
"Whom think you that they are, then, Master Oswald?"
"I think it possible that they may be a party of Douglas's followers,
led by a knight. It may be that Douglas has received some hint of
March's being in communication with England; and that he has sent a
party to seize, and search, any traveller who looked like a messenger
from the south. Of course, this may be only fancy. Still, I am right
glad that you were wearing your monkish robe; for, had I been alone, I
might have been cross-questioned so shrewdly as to my purpose in
travelling, that I might have been held on suspicion, and means
employed to get the truth out of me."
At the small town where they stopped, next night, they learned that
many complaints had been made, by travellers from the south, of how
they had been stopped by a party of armed men on the border, closely
questioned, and searched, and in some cases robbed. This had been going
on for some weeks, and the sheriff of the county had twice collected an
armed force, and ridden in search of the robbers, but altogether
without success. It was believed that they were strangers to the
district, and the description given of them had not agreed with those
of any noted bad characters, in the neighbourhood.
"Certainly, Master Oswald," the monk said, "all this seems to support
your idea. Money and valuables are soon found; but by what these men
say of the way in which the clothes and belongings of these travellers
were searched, it would seem to show that money was not the object of
the band, but rather the discovery of correspondence, and that money
was only taken as a cloak."
"I have no doubt that they were there to intercept someone, Roger,
though it may not have been Percy's messengers; still, we are well rid
of them, and I hope that we shall meet no more, on our way."
The hope was fulfilled, and they reached Dunbar without further
interruption. Here they deemed it better to separate. The monk went to
a convent, and gave out there that he was on the way to Edinburgh,
being on a journey thither to see his aged father, who was in his last
sickness. Oswald went to a shop, and bought clothes suited for the son
of a trader in a fair position; and, changing his things at the inn
where he had put up, made his way to the castle.
"I would have speech with the earl," he said, to the warder at the
gate. "I have his orders to wait upon him."
"What is your name and condition?"
"That matters not. I am here by the earl's orders. He sent me a ring,
by which it might be known that I am authorized to have access to him."
On seeing the ring, the warder at once called to one of the servitors,
and bade him conduct Oswald to the earl's apartment.
"Whom shall I say?" he asked, when he reached the door.
"Give this ring to him, and say that the bearer awaits admittance to
him."
The man entered the room and then, opening the door again, motioned to
Oswald to enter. The earl, a tall and powerfully-built man, looked with
a keen scrutiny at him.
"From whom come you, young sir?"
"From the holder of that ring, my Lord Earl," Oswald said, presenting
the ring that Percy had given him. "My name is Oswald Forster, and I
have the honour to be one of Lord Percy's esquires."
"Come you alone?" the earl asked.
"I came with a companion, a monk. I was in the disguise of a young
servitor of his convent. We came on foot from Roxburgh."
He then unscrewed the handle of a dagger Percy had given him, for the
purpose, and pulled out a small roll of paper, which he handed to the
earl. It contained only the following words:
"Do not intrust undue confidence in the bearer. The matters you wot of
are in good train; of them my messenger knows nothing."
"This was so writ by Sir Henry Percy," said Oswald, "in order that, if
I were detained and searched on the way, and this paper found on me, I
might not be forced, by torture, to say aught of my message."
"But this signet ring would have shown to whom you were coming."
"It was concealed in my staff, my lord, and could not have been
discovered, had not that been split open. Had it been so, I should have
admitted that Lord Percy had indeed committed the signet and the
writing to me to carry, and had bid me travel as the servitor of a monk
on his journey north; but that, more than that these were to be
delivered to you, I knew nothing. Lord Percy selected me as his
messenger partly because, from my youth, I should not be likely to be
suspected of being a messenger between two great lords; and in the
second place because, if arrested, and these matters found on me, the
statement in the letter would be readily believed. It would not be
supposed that important state secrets would be committed to a lad, like
myself."
The earl made no reply, for a time, but sat with his eyes fixed on
Oswald's face, as if he were reading him thoroughly.
"Then you do know the matters in question?"
"I do, my lord. I am the bearer of a further communication to you."
"Say on, then."
"Lord Percy bids me say that, on the receipt of your message to him, he
forwarded it by one of his knights to the king at Westminster; and that
the matter was discussed, by his majesty, with two or three of his most
trusted councillors. After full consideration, the king has accepted
your offer, and will grant all its conditions. He sent, my lord, also a
document with his royal seal attached, engaging to observe all the
conditions of the compact. This document Lord Percy holds, to be given
to you on a convenient occasion; but he deemed it of so important a
nature that it would be too hazardous to send it to you. The king, in a
letter to Lord Percy, begged him to tell you that, so long as the truce
continued, he could not collect an army to support you; but that, as
the time for its termination approached, he would begin to do so, and
would be in readiness to take the field, in the north, immediately you
move in the matter."
The earl sat for some time, in thought.
"Do you know the conditions of the compact?" he asked, suddenly.
Oswald had expected this question, and felt sure that the earl, who
was, when not inflamed by anger, a cool and cautious man, would highly
disapprove of Hotspur's frankness; and might possibly detain him, if he
knew that he possessed so important a secret. He therefore replied:
"As to such grave matters, it was not necessary that I should know more
than I have said to you, my Lord Earl. As it is no secret that you and
the Douglases have personal enmity, I deemed that the compact referred
to our king giving you aid, should you need it against the Douglases."
The answer was apparently satisfactory. The earl asked no further
questions, on this head.
"Were there other reasons than those you have stated why he chose you
as his messenger?"
"Another reason he gave me, my lord, was that, as I came of a family
who reside within a few miles of the border, and had relatives on this
side whom I sometimes visited, my language was similar to that spoken
in Roxburghshire; so that I could therefore pass as a Lowland Scot,
without difficulty. No one, in fact, at the various places at which we
have stopped, has taken me for aught but a countryman; though the monk
with me was often taxed with being an Englishman, though belonging to a
monastery at Roxburgh."
Again the earl was silent for some time.
"I must think over the message that I shall give you, for Percy," he
said. "I like not the delay, though I see that there is good reason for
it. As one of Hotspur's esquires, I would fain treat you with all
courtesy, and lodge you here; but this might cause question as to who
you are, and it were, therefore, better that you should lodge in the
town. Have you put up anywhere?"
"I rested for an hour at the sign of the Lion, my lord; engaging a room
there, in order to effect a change in my clothes. I left by the back
entrance, in order that the change should not be observed."
"It were best that you fetched those you travelled in away, or rather
that you returned unnoticed; and, as it is getting dark now, this can
doubtless be managed; and, when you sally out, place that cloak over
your shoulders to hide your dress as a servitor, and go to the other
inn, the Falcon. Say, there, that you are staying for a few days in
Dunbar, having come here on business with me; and that I bade you go
there, so that I might know where to send for you, if necessary. You
can pass for what you seem, a young trader who has come from Edinburgh
to arrange, on the part of your father, a cloth merchant there, for a
supply of stuffs for the clothing of my retainers."
Oswald carried out his instructions, walked about until it was quite
dark, then entered the inn, made his way unobserved to the chamber
where he had left his clothes, put these on, made the others up into a
bundle, and then went downstairs again and paid his bill; saying, as he
did so, that he had found the friends he came to see, and that they had
room to take him in. After leaving the house he threw the cloak, which
he had carried on his arm, over his shoulders; and put on the cap that
belonged to his other dress, and then went to the Falcon Inn, and
repeating to the landlord the statement the earl had made, was at once
shown to a chamber, with some deference.
"Will your worship have supper here, or in the room below?"
"I will come down," he said. "It is dull work, sitting alone."
Having ordered his supper, with a flask of wine, Oswald again donned
his attire as a trader, and went downstairs. Just as he entered the
room, in which several persons were sitting, a soldier came in from the
outer door. He looked round the room.
"I have a message, from the earl, for the person who was with him, this
afternoon."
Oswald at once rose, and went across to him.
"The earl bade me tell you," the soldier said, in a low voice, "that
his present furnisher is Robert Micklethwaite, and that his place of
business is near the castle gate, at Edinburgh."
"Please thank the earl for the information," Oswald replied, and then
returned to his seat.
He had indeed, while dressing, been wondering what name he should give.
It was like enough that, in Dunbar, many might know the names of the
principal traders in Edinburgh; and that, were he to give an unknown
one, he might be questioned as to his place of business. The message,
therefore, relieved him of this difficulty.
After he had finished his supper, which was an excellent one, he
beckoned to the landlord.
"I am a stranger here, landlord," he said. "I pray you to drink a cup
with me, and tell me the news of the place.
"You may know the name of Micklethwaite," he went on, as the landlord
sat down, "and that he comes, or sends regularly, to arrange for the
supply of cloth, its quality and price, required for the earl's
retainers."
"Master Micklethwaite always puts up here, when he visits Dunbar," the
landlord said. "I must have misunderstood him, for one day, when he was
talking with me, he said that it was a trouble to him that he had no
sons."
"Nor has he," Oswald said; "luckily for me, who am but a nephew."
"He is a good customer," the landlord went on, "and good company, too;
but he cares not for French wines, and does not trouble my cellarer,
much."
"He is a careful man," Oswald said, with a smile; "and though he is a
good trencherman, he does not waste his money on such matters. However,
he lets me have a freer hand than he uses himself; and asks not, when I
return, for a close account of my outgoings.
"What do they say, here, as to the chances of another war with
England?"
"I fear the worst," the landlord replied. "These wars are ruin to us,
and we have had the English at the gates of Dunbar over many times,
already; and the town sacked, and burnt over our heads, more than once.
Though I do not say that it might not have been worse, for our earls
have ever stood aloof, as much as possible, and have often inclined
towards the English side. Still, even then it is bad enough, for the
whole country, from Berwick, has often been wasted to check the
progress of the armies, and our trade well-nigh ruined. A pest on all
wars, say I!"
"And which way, think you, that the present earl's leanings would go?"
"I think not about it, one way or the other. My business is to sell
food and liquor, the earl's to take part in affairs of state. In days
like these, it is quite enough for each man to attend to his own
business, without troubling about that of other people; more especially
when that other is a powerful noble, who thinks little enough of
slitting a tongue that wags too freely.
"No, no, lad; John Sanderson is no fool, and knows better than to open
his mouth, touching the affairs of great nobles. I know not how it may
be with you, and the burghers of Edinburgh, but here we are content to
cool our own porridge, and let others take their food hot or cold, as
they choose."
"I was not wishing you to give me so much your own ideas, as the common
talk of the town; but I see that my question was indiscreet, and I ask
your pardon."
"I know you meant no harm, lad, and that your question was just one
that any young man of your age might ask, without thinking that there
was harm in it, or that the answering of it might lead to harm. I can
tell you that, whatever folk may think here in Dunbar, they say naught
about it to their nearest neighbour. We can talk of war with England,
that is too common a thing for there to be harm in it; and as no one
knows aught, one man's opinion is as good as another's; but the talk is
general, and assuredly no man asks his neighbour what this great lord
will do, or how matters will go. There is no harm in two gossips
wondering whether, if the English come, the town will hold out till
help comes, or whether they will batter down the walls first.
"It is a kind of riddle, you see, and all the more that no one knows
who may be by the king's side, when the storm breaks. A generation
back, men might make a fair guess; but now it were beyond the wisest
head to say and, for my part, I leave the thinking to those whom it
concerns. You from Edinburgh ought to know more than we do, for in
great cities men can talk more freely, seeing that no one lord has the
place in his hands, and that the citizens have rights, and hold to
them.
"The general thought is that we shall have war, directly the truce is
over. Among us who live by peaceful trade, we still hope for peace; for
we see not what good comes of war, save to those who make raids in
England, and as often as not these get more hard knocks than plunder;
but to the quiet trader it means loss, and may well mean ruin, if the
English army again marches through Scotland. We can discover no reason
why the two countries should not live peaceably together, each going
about its own business. I have heard it said, before now, that it would
be a good thing for both countries if the border districts on both
sides were stripped altogether of their people, and allowed to lie
desolate.
"Ay, it would be a rare thing, that. It is thieving loons, on both
sides of the border, that keep up the ill feeling; and the loss would
not be great, seeing that there are plenty of waste tracts where the
people might be bestowed, and pass their time more profitably, in
raising crops and cattle, than in destroying or carrying off those of
their neighbours. However, young sir, that is not like to be, in our
time."
"I am afraid not, Sanderson, and we must needs make the best we can of
things, as they stand. I think that 'twould be well, if the English do
come north again and capture Edinburgh, and ruin trade for years, to
cross the seas to France, and take service there."
"Scarce spoken like a peaceful trader," the landlord laughed; "but I
doubt not you would make a good soldier, and that a sword would suit
your hand to the full as well as a yard measure.
"Well, it makes not so much difference, to me. Men must eat and drink,
and though my wine would be drunk up without payment, and I should have
to run the risk of being killed on the walls, if the English came; I
should know that, in a short time, men would come and go as before, and
that they will drink good wine if they have money to pay for it, and in
six months my trade would be as brisk as ever; but men seem to think
that, this time, it will be the Scots who will invade England, for the
English barons have had enough of wars in France, and will be slow in
furnishing their quota when called on; and that we shall carry fire and
sword through the northern counties."
"That we may do, though Northumberland and Hotspur will doubtless have
something to say to it. I fear it will be as it has been, many a time
before. Our armies will march back with their plunder, the news of the
damage done will inflame all England, and then a great army will march
north. The nobles will hasten to make terms for themselves, and the
harm and damage will fall upon quiet people, who had nought whatever to
do with the invasion."
"True enough, young sir, true enough, though it is a shame that it
should be said. Had the cities a voice in the matter of peace and war,
you may be right sure that we should hear no more of invasions and
troubles, from this side of the Border. I say not that there would be
peace, for the claims of the English kings to authority in Scotland,
although we have not heard so much of them since Bannockburn, are but
in abeyance; and the first time that there is really peace, between
them and France, you may be sure that we shall hear of them again, and
then the towns as well as the country would join, heartily, in
repelling an invasion."
"They never did so in the past time, Sanderson. They generally opened
their gates at once, or if they closed them, it was because there was a
strong garrison, under some knight or noble who, and not the
townspeople, had the say in the matter. Now, methinks I will to bed,
for I have had a long day's travel."
The next day passed without any message from the earl, but on the
following morning one of the retainers from the castle came in, with
the message that the earl desired the presence of Mr. Micklethwaite.
Oswald went up, at once. The earl was, as before, alone.
"I have been thinking, Master Forster, that it would be safer, both for
you and for me, were you to tarry here for a while. You came through
safely, it is true, but you might not have such good fortune on your
return; and even though I sent no written answer, it would be enough,
were Percy's signet found upon you, to ensure your imprisonment, and
perhaps death. At any rate, they would have the means of wringing from
you the mission of which you were in charge; while I could send equally
well a message by sea, as I did before."
"I see that there might be some slight danger, my Lord Earl," Oswald
said quietly; "but I, as well as another, might take passage down by
ship touching at Berwick, or other port."
The earl's brow clouded.
"'Tis a matter to be thought over," he said, moodily. "A ship might be
captured, seeing that there are often French freebooting vessels on the
coast. And what were your orders from Lord Percy?"
"That I was to return, immediately I had conveyed his message to you."
"I would gladly hasten your departure," the earl said, after a moment's
pause, "but you see, great issues hang upon this affair. However, I
will think the matter over again, and will see how it can be best
managed."
After leaving the castle, Oswald went to the convent where the monk was
lodged, and asked for speech with Brother Roger. In a minute or two the
latter came out.
"Are we off, young master?" he asked. "In truth, it is as bad here as
at Alnwick; and, after a taste of liberty, I am longing to be out
again; and indeed, I have had some trouble in accounting for my stay
here, instead of continuing my journey to see my aged father."
"If it depended upon me, I would say that we would start forthwith; but
what I have somewhat feared, all along, has come to pass. I was the
bearer of a certain message of much importance, from Hotspur to the
earl, and I fear that the latter will detain me. He thinks that I know
more than I have said, which indeed is true, and likes not that one who
is so entirely cognisant of his secret counsels, and intentions, should
go free. He put it down to the fact that I might be captured, on my way
back, and forced to confess the whole details of the mission with which
I am charged. It is possible that this is so, but it is more likely
that he dislikes that anyone should know secrets that concern his
safety; and although he has not said as much, at present, I believe
that it is his intention to hold me here as prisoner; though doubtless
with due courtesy, as befits Percy's messenger and esquire; until
affairs come to a head, which may not be for a year or two, yet."
"Is there a guard over you, at present?"
"Not that I know of, Roger, but it may be that the inn is watched. At
any rate, he would try to overtake me, did I attempt to leave without
his permission."
"Then, Master Oswald, I should say let us be off, at once."
"But how, Roger? On foot we should be speedily overtaken, and if not
watched at present, doubtless I shall be, after my interview with the
earl this morning. Were I to try and buy horses, I might be arrested at
once. However, I have been thinking that the best plan would be for you
to go round to the port, and to bargain for a passage for us to
Edinburgh. Then we would slip on board quietly, half an hour before she
sailed.
"Methinks it were as well that you did not go in your robes. I will
purchase a dress suitable to a cattle drover, for you, and a similar
one for myself. I will bring yours for you here, in an hour's time, if
you will wait a hundred yards from the gate for me. Then you can go to
some quiet spot and change your garments, and then go down to the port.
I will be standing at the door of my inn, and as you pass say, without
checking your pace, the hour at which a boat sails, today or tomorrow;
and then do you be near the hotel, again, an hour before that time.
"Do not speak to me as I come out, but keep a short distance behind me;
and if you see that I am followed by anyone, you must do your best to
rid me of him. You had better bring your present garments along with
you. They may be useful."
Roger assented joyously. The thought that, at any rate for a time, he
was to get rid of his robes filled him with joy; and the possibility
that there might be danger in the enterprise only added to his
pleasure.
Feeling the need for great care, Oswald walked for some little time
before entering a shop, passing through several quiet streets; and,
when assured that he was not followed, he went into the booth of a
clothier.
"I have occasion for two suits of clothes, such as would be worn by
cattle drovers," he said. "I am about to travel and, having money about
me, can best do so safely in such a garment. I want one suit to fit me,
and another for a companion, who is a big stout man, a good deal above
the ordinary height."
"'Tis a wise precaution, your honour, for the roads are by no means
safe, at present. I can fit you, with ease, and will pick out the
largest clothes I have in stock, for your companion."
The purchase was soon made. It consisted of a rough smock of blue
cloth, reaching to the knees, and girded in by a strap at the waist;
and breeches of the same material, reaching below the knees, with
strips of gray cloth to be wound round and round the leg, from the knee
to the ankle. In addition, Oswald bought two pairs of rough sandals,
and two lowland bonnets. Each suit was done up, at his request, in a
separate parcel; and then, retracing his steps, he joined Roger and
handed his clothes to him.
"I will go outside the gates and change my things," Roger said, "and
then go down to the port. I will then come to your hotel, as you said.
If no ship sails until tomorrow, I have only to put my robe on over
these garments, and return to the convent. If there is one sailing this
evening, I shall not go back there again; but will be on the lookout
for you, half an hour before the boat leaves the port."
"The nearer the time of sailing, the better, Roger; for if I am
watched, and there is any trouble with the man who follows me, the
sooner we are on board before any alarm is raised, the better. But I
should hardly think a boat would start, in the evening."
"I don't know, Master Oswald. I was down at the port, yesterday, and
the tide was high at three o'clock; and methinks that a boat would put
out an hour or two before low tide, so as to take the water with it as
far as New Berwick, and there catch the flood flowing into the Firth.
In that case, the boat would put out at six, or maybe seven o'clock."
"I would that it had been two hours later, Roger. After dark, it were
easy enough to silence a man without attracting much attention; but in
broad daylight, it would not be so easily done."
"Not if we went straight from the inn to the port, Master, but there is
no need for you to take that route."
"You are right, Roger. Indeed, it would be better not to do so, for
were they to have an idea that we had escaped by water, the earl might
send a fast boat after us. Therefore, when I come out I will turn off
and go, by unfrequented streets and lanes, in the opposite direction.
In that way you will be better able to see if I am followed, and may
find some quiet place, where you can give a man a clout on the head
that will rid us of him."
"Will you come out, Master Oswald, in your present attire, or in your
disguise?"
"I will wear this cloak and headgear, and will put these leggings over
the others, so that I shall have but to take them off and fling them
aside, and to throw off my cloak and cap and put on this bonnet, all of
which will not take a minute and can be done in a doorway or passage
without attracting observation. I should be afraid to go out, in the
drover's attire. The servants at the inn know me, now; and moreover, a
man of such condition would not think of going to the Falcon. Were I to
be noticed, coming out, it might be thought that I had entered it for
some evil purpose."
"I shall be on hand, master. I had thought of not returning to the
monastery, but I must do so, for I have left my staff there, and it
will be as suitable for a drover as a monk. I shall go to the harbour,
as soon as I have seen you; and if it is this evening a boat sails, I
shall go back at once and bid them farewell, saying that a ship is
sailing for Leith, and that I have taken passage in her."
Oswald returned to the inn and, half an hour later, went down to the
doorway, where he stood as if idly watching the flow of traffic. A
quarter of an hour later, he saw Roger approaching. He looked the
character that he had assumed, to the life. He had dirtied his hands
and face, and smudged his smock with stains of mud. He strolled along,
with a free step and head erect. He did not look at Oswald as he
passed, but said, "Boat sails at seven, tonight."
Oswald stood for some time longer. A short distance down the street, he
observed two of the earl's retainers. They were standing, apparently
looking at the goods in a mercer's window. After a time, they moved on
a short distance, passed the inn, and stopped again to look in another
shop, twenty or thirty yards away.
Then Oswald left the door. The landlord was standing in the passage,
and beckoned to him to enter his private room.
"Young sir," he said, "I know not whether you have done anything that
has displeased the earl, nor is it any business of mine; but you are a
fair-spoken young gentlemen, and I would not that any ill came to you.
I like not to meddle in the earl's affairs, for he would think nothing
of ordering my house to be burnt over my head. However, I may warn you
that he is making inquiries about you. One of his retainers has been
here, two hours ago, with a confidential message from the earl, to
inquire whether you had said anything about leaving, and to bid me send
a message to him, secretly, should you do so."
"I thank you warmly, my good host," Oswald replied. "I have had no
quarrel with the earl, but we have differed as to the value of the
goods he requires. He would fain have them at last year's prices; but
wool has gone up, and we could not sell them, save at a loss. It may be
that he thinks I shall go away, and that if he finds I am about to do
so he will send for me, and agree to my terms, which indeed are so low
that they leave but little profit. However, it were well that you
should let me know how much I owe you, and I will pay that, at once. Do
not make up the account, but tell me roundly there or thereabouts; and
then, should I leave suddenly, you can say truly that I had not asked
for my bill, and that you were altogether ignorant of my intention of
leaving."
"There can be no occasion for that," the host said. "You can pay me the
next time you come, should you decide to leave suddenly."
"Nay, I would rather settle obligations, for if I do not do business
with the earl, it may be some time before I return."
The landlord made rapid calculations, and named a sum, which Oswald at
once handed to him, with warm thanks for the warning he had given him.
"I may stay here three or four days longer," he said meaningly, "as the
earl may, at the last moment, come to an agreement as to the price of
the goods. I should be sorry to return to my uncle without getting an
order, for the earl has, for years, been one of our best customers."
The landlord nodded.
"I understand," he said. "It would be as well, perhaps, that you should
say as much in the hearing of one of the drawers; so that, if
questioned, I shall have a witness who can bear me out."