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master's absence.
But now there was the noise of a horse; and soon, out of the edge of the
wood and over the echoing bridge, there rode up young Master Richard
Shelton, Sir Daniel's ward. He, at the least, would know, and they
hailed him and begged him to explain. He drew bridle willingly enough--a
young fellow not yet eighteen, sun-browned and grey-eyed, in a jacket of
deer's leather, with a black velvet collar, a green hood upon his head,
and a steel cross-bow at his back. The express, it appeared, had brought
great news. A battle was impending. Sir Daniel had sent for every man
that could draw a bow or carry a bill to go post-haste to Kettley, under
pain of his severe displeasure; but for whom they were to fight, or of
where the battle was expected, Dick knew nothing. Sir Oliver would come
shortly himself, and Bennet Hatch was arming at that moment, for he it
was who should lead the party.
"It is the ruin of this kind land," a woman said. "If the barons live at
war, ploughfolk must eat roots."
"Nay," said Dick, "every man that follows shall have sixpence a day, and
archers twelve."
"If they live," returned the woman, "that may very well be; but how if
they die, my master?"
"They cannot better die than for their natural lord," said Dick.
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