“A matter of forty miles,” said the Chapman; “because, as thou wottest, if ye ride south from hence, ye shall presently bring your nose up against the big downs, and must needs climb them at once; and when ye are at the top of Bear Hill, and look south away ye shall see nought but downs on downs with never a road to call a road, and never a castle, or church, or homestead:  nought but some shepherd’s hut; or at the most the little house of a holy man with a little chapel thereby in some swelly of the chalk, where the water hath trickled into a pool; for otherwise the place is waterless.”  Therewith he took a long pull at the tankard by his side, and went on: 

“Higham is beyond all that, and out into the fertile plain; and a little river hight Coldlake windeth about the meadows there; and it is a fair land; though look you the wool of the downs is good, good, good!  I have foison of this year’s fleeces with me.  Ye shall raise none such in Upmeads.”

Ralph sat silent a little, as if pondering, and then he started up and said:  “Good master Clement, we have eaten thy meat and thank thee for that and other matters.  Wilt thou now be kinder, and bid thy boy bring round Falcon our horse; for we have far to go, and must begone straight-away.”

“Yea, lord,” said Clement, “even so will I do.”  And he muttered under his breath; “Thou talkest big, my lad, with thy ‘we’; but thou art pressed lest Nicholas be here presently to fetch thee back; and to say sooth I would his hand were on thy shoulder even now.”

Then he spake aloud again, and said: 

“I must now begone to my lads, and I will send one round with thy war-horse.  But take my rede, my lord, and become the man of the Abbot of St. Mary’s of Higham, and all will be well.”

Therewith he edged himself out of the chamber, and the dame fell to making a mighty clatter with the vessel and trenchers and cups on the board, while Ralph walked up and down the chamber his war-gear jingling upon him.  Presently the dame left her table-clatter and came up to Ralph and looked kindly into his face and said:  “Gossip, hast thou perchance any money?”

He flushed up red, and then his face fell; yet he spake gaily:  “Yea, gossip, I have both white and red:  there are three golden crowns in my pouch, and a little flock of silver pennies:  forsooth I say not as many as would reach from here to Upmeads, if they were laid one after the other.”

She smiled and patted his cheek, and said: 

“Thou art no very prudent child, king’s son.  But it comes into my mind that my master did not mean thee to go away empty-handed; else had he not departed and left us twain together.”

Therewith she went to the credence that stood in a corner, and opened a drawer therein and took out a little bag, and gave it into Ralph’s hand, and said:  “This is the gift of the gossip; and thou mayst take it without shame; all the more because if thy father had been a worser man, and a harder lord he would have had more to give thee.  But now thou hast as much or more as any one of thy brethren.”