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There was no help for it; with a pettish air, but not at all disconcerted, Yolande said her nag wanted to browse on that sweet bit of grass there, and returned to Ralph.

After the interchange of a few words, the Captain rejoined the others, and the man disappeared into the tall furze behind the old thorn bush.

"We've lost our heronshaw," said Mistress Yolande, pouting.

"Nay, the varlets will bring the quarry in," said the Captain. "But what building have we here."

"'Tis the nunnery of Appuldurcombe," said Yolande. "Marry, I am sore athirst. Prythee, let us go there, and ask the kind sister for a draught of ale or hippocras."

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