She said it half mischievously, but the only effect was a grunt, and a stolid shrug of his shoulders, nor did he vouchsafe another word for the rest of the way before they came through the valley, and through the low brushwood on the bank, and were in sight of the search party, who set up a joyful halloo of welcome on perceiving her. A young man, the best mounted and armed, evidently an esquire, rode forward, exclaiming, ‘Well met, fair Lady Anne! Great have been the Mother Prioress’s fears for you, and she has called up half the country side, lest you should be fallen into the hands of Robin of Redesdale, or some other Lancastrian rogue.’ ‘Much she heeded me in comparison with hawk and heron!’ responded Anne. ‘Thanks for your heed, Master Bertram.’ ‘I must part from thee and thy sturdy pony. Thanks for the use of it,’ added she, as the squire proceeded to take her from the pony. He would have lifted her down, but she only touched his hand lightly and sprang to the ground, then stood patting its neck. ‘Thanks again, good pony. I am much beholden to thee, Gaffer Hob! Stay a moment.’ ‘Nay, lady, it would be well to mount you behind Archie. His beast is best to carry a lady.’ Archie was an elderly man, stout but active, attached to the service of the convent. He had leapt down, and was putting on a belt, and arranging a pad for the damsel, observing, ‘Ill hap we lost you, damsel! I saw you not fall.’ ‘Ay,’ returned Anne, ‘your merlin charmed you far more. Master Bertram, the loan of your purse. I would reward the honest man who housed me.’ Bertram laughed and said, tossing up the little bag that hung to his girdle, ‘Do you think, fair damsel, that a poor Border squire carries about largesse in gold and silver? Let your clown come with us to Greystone, and thence have what meed the Prioress may bestow on him, for a find that your poor servant would have given worlds to make.’ ‘Hearest thou, Hob?’ said Anne. ‘Come with us to the convent, and thou shalt have thy guerdon.’ Hob, however, scratched his head, with a more boorish air than he had before manifested, and muttered something about a cow that needed his attention, and that he could not spare the time from his herd for all that the Prioress was like to give him. ‘Take this, then,’ said Anne, disengaging a gold clasp from her neck, and giving it to him. ‘Bear it to the goodwife and bid her recollect me in her prayers.’ ‘I shall come and redeem it from thee, sulky carle as thou art,’ said Bertram. ‘Such jewels are not for greasy porridge-fed housewives. Hark thee, have it ready for me! I shall be at thy hovel ere long’--as Anne waved to Hob when she was lifted to her seat. But Hob had already turned away, and Anne, as she held on by Archie’s leathern belt, in her gay tone was beginning to defend him by declaring that porridge and grease did not go together, so the nickname was not rightly bestowed on the kindly goodwife.