"Hast thou such a lad, bailiff?" growled Sir Austin. There was gold in wool,--'t were best keep it safe.
"Haply, Sir Austin," said the bailiff, and thrust forward the peddler. "Here 's an idle fellow hath dawdled twixt the manor and the village these three days. He will not go, he will not stay; knoweth not his own mind. There 's enough idlers among them that make pretence to labour, and shall I countenance sloth that 's avowed open?"
"A pox o' free men!" shouted Sir Austin. "No man is free to eat his head off in idleness o' my land. Wilt begone?"
"I-I-I," stammered the peddler, looking on Calote, who had drawn nigh the better to learn what was going forward.
"'T is a kind man," said she, going up to the dais. "Hath done me much service in my wanderings. 'S tongue 's slow."
"A man plougheth not with his tongue, wench," said he. "Neither hath he need of 's tongue to mind sheep, but if he whistle. Hark ye, rogue, I 'll give thee another day to gather together thy slow wits; thereafter thou 'lt labour, or get thee gone,--else I 'll make thee free o' the stocks."
The villeins and other servitors were now lagging forth of the hall, and mid the noise and stir the peddler said to Calote, hastily:--
"Wh-when thou art ready to begone, thou 'lt find me sh-shepherding on the wolds. Meanwhile, k-keep thy dagger loose in its sheath."
Then he left her and went to the edge of the dais.
"S-sir Knight, I-I 'll make shift to aid thy sh-shepherd," he said. And presently he was gone out with the villeins.
Calote walked down the hall to the windows, pondering. She had kept her dagger secret even from this peddler. How should he know? Yet, 't were a simple thing, no doubt; her gown was ragged. But at night, when she lay on the sheepskin a-turning over the day in her mind, she asked herself why the peddler should stay for her.
"Alas,--wehl awey!" she sighed, and her face burned in the dark.
After a little she said again: "Wehl awey!"
The heather was not in blossom, but the breath of spring sweetened the wolds. Diggon the shepherd gave his new man a sheepskin to warm him in, and together they two kept the flock. Out in the lonely open the peddler forsook his stammer as much as he might, for the nonce; yet now and again 't would master him against his will, and so did all his life after. If a man hold his unruly member halting two year, 't will take revenge.