"Ay, better men than you or me," replied the other. "Howbeit, my mistress, there is no harm you should know--is there, Master Dugan?-- that you be bounden for the manor of Hazelwood, some six miles to the north of Derby, where dwell Sir Godfrey Foljambe and his dame." "No harm; so you tarry there at this present," said Master Dugan. "Ay, I've reached my hostel," was the response. "Then my Lady Foljambe is she that I must serve?" The man in linen exchanged a smile with the man in livery. "You shall see her the first, I cast no doubt, and she shall tell you your duties," answered Dugan. Amphillis sat on the pillion, and meditated on her information as they journeyed on. There was evidently something more to tell, which she was not to be told at present. After wondering for a little while what it might be, and deciding that her imagination was not equal to the task laid upon it, she gave it up, and allowed herself to enjoy the sweet country scents and sounds without apprehension for the future. For six days they travelled on in this fashion, about twenty miles each day, staying every night but one at a wayside inn, where Amphillis was always delivered into the care of the landlady, and slept with her daughter or niece; once at a private house, the owners of which were apparently friends of Mr Dugan. They baited for the last time at Derby, and about two o'clock in the afternoon rode into the village of Hazelwood. It was only natural that Amphillis should feel a little nervous and uneasy, in view of her introduction to her new abode and unknown companions. She was not less so on account of the mystery which appeared to surround the nameless mistress. Why did everybody who seemed to know anything make such a secret of the affair? The Manor house of Hazelwood was a pretty and comfortable place enough. It stood in a large garden, gay with autumn flowers, and a high embattled wall protected it from possible enemies. The trio rode in under an old archway, through a second gate, and then drew up beneath the entrance arch, the door being--as is yet sometimes seen in old inns--at the side of the arch running beneath the house. A man in livery came forward to take the horses. "Well, Master Saint Oly," said he; "here you be!" "I could have told thee that, Sim," was the amused reply. "Is all well? Sir Godfrey at home?" "Ay to the first question, and No to the second." "My Lady is in her bower?" "My Lady's in the privy garden, whither you were best take the damsel to her." Sim led the horses away to the stable, and Saint Oly turned to Amphillis. "Then, if it please you, follow me, my mistress; we were best to go to my Lady at once." Amphillis followed, silent, curious, and a little fluttered.