Richard the Scrob's right hand closed upon the hurdle in a convulsive grasp.
"It is five years since he died," said the woman.
"Get behind me, and stay behind me, out of our way," said Ulwin. "See here, Alftrude, thou shalt not stir whence I now bid thee stand. I will not have thee waste our goods on womanish nothings. Geegaws and sweet foodstuffs, forsooth! What lacks the woman? Will she tell the world that we clothe her not nor board her?"
She made no reply. For a moment she looked him full in the face: there was no reproach in her gaze, but only contempt and a spice of derision; then she turned and walked calmly, with unflushed cheeks, to join the other women in the background, and stood with them. The market-crowd surged all about them.
"These are thine?" growled Ulwin to Richard, indicating the penned oxen.
"Mine they were," answered Richard. "I sold them to Edmund the flesher of Worcester this morning, when the fair was but new-begun. But I have others, Ulwin Ednoth's son, if ye wish to buy."
"Buy! Pah! no, not I! It is not of buying that I have to speak with thee, Richard."
"Indeed, it is not of buying that I have to speak with thee, Richard. Thou art learned in the law: because thou art so learned, the Lord Abbot deems thee worthy of his trust; but all thy cleverness could not teach thee.... How can I say, all-wise one, that thou didst not know? Well, the Lord Abbot knew not--aye, even I myself knew not--that Ashford, which thou callest thine, was not holden by us and by our father of the Abbot of Leominster, and that therefore neither the Abbot nor I might make over this land of Ashford to thee in exchange for ... such and so much cattle and silver ... two years ago."
"Ashford is mine. I have set up a mill there, with the Abbot's licence."
"Not thine, Richard the Scrob. I am Turstin of Wigmore's man for Ashford, and I may not go with it to any other lord;[15] and Turstin is wishful to uphold his right. As for thy mill ... well, thou hast made it, and there will be the tolls for me."
"If there be any flaw in our dealings, then is it matter for the moot."
"Now, understand me, thou!" shouted Ulwin, with a pompous gesture of the arms and an outward thrust of his swollen underlip. "That which thou hast tricked of me I will have again, yea, this day and this hour! Ulwin of the Moor is unwonted to waiting!"