"It would be most companionable and loyal," cried Dame Corcas fervently. "I fear that otherwise I might just lie here in the road all night, until my strength returns."

Madouc glumly dismounted. "I suppose it will do me no great harm to walk for a bit."

"I thank you, from the bottom of my heart!" cried Dame Corcas. With surprising agility she stepped to Juno's side and swung herself into the saddle. "Ah! I feel better already! Filemon, shall we sing a brave little song, to bolster our spirits?"

"Of course, my dear! What shall it be?"

" ‘The Song of the Three Merry Vagabonds', of course."

"Very good." Filemon clapped his hands to establish the cadence; then, in his gustful baritone mingled with Dame Corcas' piping soprano, the song was rendered:

Our wants are many, our farthings few;

And oft we sleep in the rain and dew!

Our evening meal is a turnip stew;

In spite of all we're a jolly crew!

Refrain (as sung by Mikelaus):

Sigmo chaska yi yi yi Varmous varmous oglethorpe.

Our argosies ride distant tides;

Out there somewhere our fortune hides.

Though pain seems what our life provides Our dauntless doctrine still abides!

Refrain (as sung by Mikelaus):

Poxin mowgar yi yi yi Vilish hoy kazinga.

The land is broad, the sky is vast!

We travel far, but not too fast.

The dogs bark loud as we walk past;

At night the owls fly off aghast.

Refrain (sung by Mikelaus):

Varmous toigal yi yi yi Tinkish wombat nip.

So went the ballad for sixteen more verses, with Mikelaus in each case croaking a refrain from the road behind.

Other songs were sung, with such gusto that Madouc at last called up to Dame Corcas: "You seem to have recovered your strength."

"To some extent, my dear! But it is verging into the afternoon, and now I must take my potion to prevent a new attack.

I believe that I have the packet ready to hand." Dame Corcas searched her pouch, then gave a cry of consternation. "This is a dreadful discovery!"

"What now, my dear?" cried Filernon.

"I left my potion at the spot where we made our meal! I remember distinctly tucking the packet into the crotch of the elm tree."

"That is most inconvenient! You must have your potion, if you are to survive the night!"

"There is only one solution!" said Dame Corcas decisively.

"I will ride back at speed for the potion. Meanwhile, you must continue to the old hut where once before we passed the night; it lies only a mile or so ahead. You may prepare us all nice beds of straw, and I will be back with you surely before the sun sets."

"It seems the only way," said Filemon. "Ride at best speed; still, do not founder the horse, gallant beast though it may be!"

"I know how to get the most out of such an animal," said Dame Corcas. "I will see you anon!" She turned back down the road, and kicked up Juno first into a trot, then into a warbling gallop, and soon disappeared from view, while Madouc and Sir Pom-Pom watched nonplussed.

"Come then," said Filemon. "As Dame Corcas mentioned, there is a deserted hut a short distance ahead, which will provide us a kindly shelter for the night."

The group continued, with Sir Pom-Pom, on Fustis, leading the way. Twenty minutes later they came upon a desolate old crofter's hut, situated a few yards off the road in the shade of two sprawling oak trees.

"Here we are," said Filemon. "It is not a palace, but it is better than nothing, and clean straw is to be had in the rick."

He turned to Mikelaus who had been trying to engage his attention. "What is it now, Mikelaus?"

"Fidix. Waskin. Bolosio."

Filemon stared down at him in shock. "Can it be true?"

"Arum. Fooner."

"I cannot recall the act! Still I will search my wallet." Almost at once Filemon discovered a packet tied in black cord. "Mikelaus, you are right! I absent-mindedly took up Dame Corcas' potion and dropped it into my pouch! And now the poor creature will be in a dreadful state! She will never give up her search while the light persists, and the worry may bring on a severe attack; you will recall that episode at Cwimbry."

"Arum."

"There is no help for it! I must ride to find her, so that she will not be in an agony of despair. Luckily, the way is not long." He turned to Sir Pom-Pom. "Sir, I must beg the use of your horse Fustis! I take the blame for the entire inconvenience! But Mikelaus will make himself handy during my short absence. Mikelaus, hear me now and hear me well! I do not want to learn of your shirking! Show this gentleman to the hayrick, then gather sticks for a fire. Further, I entrust you with a jar of my special wax. I want you to polish this gentleman's boots, and polish them until they shine like glass. It is the very least you can do for our friends until I return with Dame Corcas!" He sprang into the saddle which Sir Pom-Pom had only just vacated and galloped off down the road.

"Hoy!" called Sir Pom-Pom after him. "At least leave behind the saddlebags, that we may make our supper in your absence!"

But Filemon failed either to hear or to heed and was soon lost to sight.

Sir Pom-Pom looked into the hut, then backed away. "I believe that I will sleep out in the open, where the must is less intense."

"I will do likewise, since the night promises to be fine," said Madouc.

Sir Pom-Pom and Mikelaus brought straw from an old rick and laid it down to make soft sweet-smelling beds. Then Sir Pom-Pom struck up a fire, but without saddlebags they could only look glumly into the flames and wait with what patience they could muster for the return of Filemon and Dame Corcas with their horses.

The sun sank low and disappeared behind the far hills. Sir Pom-Pom went to look along the road but discovered neither sight nor sound of either Dame Corcas or Filemon.

He returned to the fire and pulled off his boots. Mikelaus at once took them aside and began to polish them, using Filemon's special wax. Sir Pom-Pom spoke in surly tones: "I do not care to sit up until midnight. I will now lie down to sleep, which is the best remedy for an empty stomach."

"I believe I will do the same," said Madouc. "Mikelaus may well stay up to wait; he has the polishing of your boots to occupy his time."

For a period Madouc lay awake watching the stars drift past overhead, but at last her eyelids became heavy and she fell asleep. And so the night passed.

In the morning Madouc and Sir Pom-Pom arose from their beds of straw and looked about. There was no sign of either Filemon, Dame Corcas, or the horses. When they looked for Mikelaus, he also was not in evidence, nor were Sir Pom-Pom's boots.

Madouc said: "I am commencing to wonder about the honesty of Filemon and Dame Corcas."

"Do not leave that impling Mikelaus out of your calculations," said Sir Pom-Pom through gritted teeth. "It is clear that he has decamped with my new boots."

Madouc drew a deep breath. "I suppose it is futile to lament our loss. At Biddle Bray we will buy you stout buskins and a pair of good stockings. Until then you must go barefoot."

II

Madouc and Sir Pom-Pom trudged glumly into Biddle Bray; even the red feather in Sir Pom-Pom's cap had taken on a disconsolate slant. At the Dog's Head Inn they ate pease porridge for breakfast, after which, at a cobbler's shop, Sir Pom-Pom was fitted with a pair of buskins. When the cobbler called for his money, Sir Pom-Pom pointed to Madouc. "You must discuss the matter with her."

Madouc stared at him in displeasure. "How so?"

"Because you have insisted upon carrying the funds."

"What of the silver form and the three copper pennies?"

Sir Pom-Pom's face became bleak. "I placed three coins in my pouch, which I tied to the pommel of my saddle. Filemon jumped on Fustis and rode off like a whirlwind, and with him horse, pouch and money."