I owe you a life; I am a good repayer,
Jack, of good or evil."

They began to go forward up the slope.

"We must hit the road, early or late," continued Dick; "and then for a
fresh start. By the mass! but y' 'ave a rickety hand, Jack. If I had a
hand like that, I would think shame. I tell you," he went on, with a
sudden chuckle, "I swear by the mass I believe Hugh Ferryman took you for
a maid."

"Nay, never!" cried the other, colouring high.

"A' did, though, for a wager!" Dick exclaimed. "Small blame to him. Ye
look liker maid than man; and I tell you more--y' are a strange-looking
rogue for a boy; but for a hussy, Jack, ye would be right fair--ye would.
Ye would be well favoured for a wench."

"Well," said Matcham, "ye know right well that I am none."

"Nay, I know that; I do but jest," said Dick. "Ye'll be a man before
your mother, Jack. What cheer, my bully! Ye shall strike shrewd
strokes. Now, which, I marvel, of you or me, shall be first knighted,
Jack? for knighted I shall be, or die for 't. 'Sir Richard Shelton,
Knight': it soundeth bravely. But 'Sir John Matcham' soundeth not
amiss."

"Prithee, Dick, stop till I drink," said the other, pausing where a
little clear spring welled out of the slope into a gravelled basin no
bigger than a pocket. "And O, Dick, if I might come by anything to
eat!--my very heart aches with hunger."

"Why, fool, did ye not eat at Kettley?" asked Dick.

"I had made a vow--it was a sin I had been led into," stammered Matcham;
"but now, if it were but dry bread, I would eat it greedily."

"Sit ye, then, and eat," said Dick, "while that I scout a little forward
for the road." And he took a wallet from his girdle, wherein were bread
and pieces of dry bacon, and, while Matcham fell heartily to, struck
farther forth among the trees.

A little beyond there was a dip in the ground, where a streamlet soaked
among dead leaves; and beyond that, again, the trees were better grown
and stood wider, and oak and beech began to take the place of willow and
elm. The continued tossing and pouring of the wind among the leaves
sufficiently concealed the sounds of his footsteps on the mast; it was
for the ear what a moonless night is to the eye; but for all that Dick
went cautiously, slipping from one big trunk to another, and looking
sharply about him as he went. Suddenly a doe passed like a shadow
through the underwood in front of him, and he paused, disgusted at the
chance.