"Yea, do, like the vipers ye are, and embroil us with my Lord of
Beaulieu," cried Maud from the fire.

"See," said John, in his more caressing fashion, "it is not well to
carry family tales to strangers, and--and--"

He was disconcerted by a laugh from the old nurse, "Ho! John
Birkenholt, thou wast ever a lad of smooth tongue, but an thou, or
madam here, think that thy brothers can be put forth from thy
father's door without their due before the good man be cold in his
grave, and the Forest not ring with it, thou art mightily out in thy
reckoning!"

"Peace, thou old hag; what matter is't of thine?" began Mistress
Maud, but again came the harsh laugh. "Matter of mine! Why, whose
matter should it be but mine, that have nursed all three of the
lads, ay, and their father before them, besides four more that lie
in the graveyard at Beaulieu? Rest their sweet souls! And I tell
thee, Master John, an thou do not righteously by these thy brothers,
thou mayst back to thy parchments at Southampton, for not a man or
beast in the Forest will give thee good day."

They all felt the old woman's authority. She was able and spirited
in her homely way, and more mistress of the house than Mrs.
Birkenholt herself; and such were the terms of domestic service,
that there was no peril of losing her place. Even Maud knew that to
turn her out was an impossibility, and that she must be accepted
like the loneliness, damp, and other evils of Forest life. John had
been under her dominion, and proceeded to persuade her. "Good now,
Nurse Joan, what have I denied these rash striplings that my father