It being agreed among the party to rest for an hour at the little hostel, and partake of some refreshment, Nicholas went to look after the horses, while Roger Nowell and Richard remained in the room with the pedlar.  Bess Whitaker owned an extensive farm-yard, provided with cow-houses, stables, and a large barn; and it was to the latter place that the two grooms proposed to repair with Sparshot and play a game at loggats on the clay floor.  No one knew what had become of the reeve; for, on depositing the poor pedlar at the door of the hostel, he had mounted his horse and ridden away.  Having ordered some fried eggs and bacon, Nicholas wended his way to the stable, while Bess, assisted by a stout kitchen wench, busied herself in preparing the eatables, and it was at this juncture that Master Potts entered the house.

Bess eyed him narrowly, and was by no means prepossessed by his looks, while the muddy condition of his habiliments did not tend to exalt him in her opinion.

“Yo mey yersel a’ whoam, mon, ey mun say,” she observed, as the attorney seated himself on the bench beside her.

“To be sure,” rejoined Potts; “where should a man make himself at home, if not at an inn?  Those eggs and bacon look very tempting.  I’ll try some presently; and, as soon as you’ve done with the frying-pan, I’ll have a pottle of sack.”

“Neaw, yo winna,” replied Bess.  “Yo’n get nother eggs nor bacon nor sack here, ey can promise ye.  Ele an whoat-kekes mun sarve your turn.  Go to t’ barn wi’ t’ other grooms, and play at kittle-pins or nine-holes wi’ hin, an ey’n send ye some ele.”

“I’m quite comfortable where I am, thank you, hostess,” replied Potts, “and have no desire to play at kittle-pins or nine-holes.  But what does this bottle contain?”

“Sherris,” replied Bess.

“Sherris!” echoed Potts, “and yet you say I can have no sack.  Get me some sugar and eggs, and I’ll show you how to brew the drink.  I was taught the art by my friend, Ben Jonson—­rare Ben—­ha, ha!”

“Set the bottle down,” cried Bess, angrily.

“What do you mean, woman!” said Potts, staring at her in surprise.  “I told you to fetch sugar and eggs, and I now repeat the order—­sugar, and half-a-dozen eggs at least.”

“An ey repeat my order to yo,” cried Bess, “to set the bottle down, or ey’st may ye.”

“Make me! ha, ha!  I like that,” cried Potts.  “Let me tell you, woman, I am not accustomed to be ordered in this way.  I shall do no such thing.  If you will not bring the eggs I shall drink the wine, neat and unsophisticate.”  And he filled a flagon near him.

“If yo dun, yo shan pay dearly for it,” said Bess, putting aside the frying-pan and taking down the horsewhip.

“I daresay I shall,” replied Potts merrily; “you hostesses generally do make one pay dearly.  Very good sherris this, i’ faith!—­the true nutty flavour.  Now do go and fetch me some eggs, my good woman.  You must have plenty, with all the poultry I saw in the farm-yard; and then I’ll teach you the whole art and mystery of brewing sack.”