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THREE:"Reckon I do!" cried Reuben genially, warmed by various liquors��"naun shall say I d?an't know a fine woman when I see one. And I reckon as me and my darter-in-law are out after the s?um thing��and that's the beating of Nature, wot you seem to set such a store by, Richard."About ten years before the commencement of our tale, a pale emaciated youth presented himself one morning at Sudley Castle, desiring the hospitality that was never denied to the stranger. Over his dress, which was of the coarse monks' cloth then generally worn by the religious, he wore a tattered cloak of the dark russet peculiar to the peasant. That day he was fed, and that night lodged at the castle; and the next morning, as he stood in a corner of the court-yard, apparently lost in reflection as to the course he should next adopt, the young Roland de Boteler, then a fine boy of fifteen, emerged from the stone arch-way of the stable mounted on a spirited charger. The glow on his cheek, the brightness of his eyes, and the youthful animation playing on his face, and ringing in the joyous tones of his voice, seemed to make the solitary dejected being, who looked as if he could claim neither kindred nor home, appear even more care-worn and friendless. The youth gazed at the young De Boteler, and ran after him as he rode through the gateway followed by two attendants.

THREE:The next minute Reuben had pulled on his trousers and was out in the passage, shouting "Fire!""Who are you, bold man?" inquired the Duke of Lancaster, impatiently, "who thus break in upon his Grace's sport?"