"
"Is he at large?" inquired the other.
"They say he bides at Haigh," answered Boniface, "roistering it with
that Welsh knight there, Sir Osmund Neville. I warrant Sir William's
substance runs gaily down the old parson's throat."
Here the palmer threw the hood over his brows. Suddenly he arose:
striding across the chamber with considerable speed, he twice repeated
the name of Sir Osmund Neville in a subdued tone, but with a bitterness
of spirit that ill accorded with the outward habit of meekness which he
had assumed.
"Giles Dauber! what keeps ye so long there a-gossiping?" shouted a
shrill voice from above. It was the vocal substitute of Mistress Dauber,
who, resolutely determined not to budge at her husband's bidding, had,
as she lay, listened, but to little purpose. Finding it was no everyday
guest, she crept to the ladder-head and gave ear for a while; but soon
discovering it to be an unthrifty sort of intercourse that was going on,
not likely to bring either gain or good-will to the house, and fearing
that Giles might fall into some snare from his ready-mouthed opinions
regarding the unsettled temper and aspect of the time, she thought fit
to break abruptly on the discourse ere it should lead to some dangerous
or forbidden subject.
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