"Little changed," said Rose, smiling, and telling her brother the
adventures at the dinner.

As cheerfully as might be they talked till Edmund had finished his
meal, and then Rose begged him to let her examine and bind up the
wound. It was a sword-cut on the right shoulder, and, though not
very deep, had become stiff and painful from neglect, and had soaked
his sleeve deeply with blood. Rose's dexterous fingers applied the
salve and linen she had brought, and she promised that at her next
visit she would bring him some clean clothes, which was what he said
he most wished for. Then she arranged the large horseman's cloak,
the hay, and his own mantle, so well as to form, he said, the most
luxurious resting place he had seen since he left Dunbar; and rolled
up in this he lay, his head supported on his hand, talking earnestly
with her on the measures next to be taken for his safety, and on the
state of the family. He must be hidden there till the chase was a
little slackened, and then escape, by Bosham or some other port, to
the royal fleet, which was hovering on the coast. Money, however--
how was he to get a passage without it?

"The Prince, at parting--heaven knows he has little enough himself--
gave me twenty gold crowns, which he said was my share of prize-money
for our captures," said Edmund, "but this is the last of them."

"And I don't know how we can get any," said Rose. "We never see
money. Our tenants, if they pay at all, pay in kind--a side of
bacon, or a sack of corn; they are very good, poor people, and love
our mother heartily, I do believe. I wish I knew what was to be
done."