By this day week we will all be rolling homewards across the Bay with never a Spaniard within three hundred miles, you and your lady and Master Castell, too.

I know it! I tell you, lad, I know it!" "How do you know it ?" asked Peter curiously.
"Because I dreamed it last night.

I saw you and Mistress Margaret sitting sweet as sugar, with your arms around each other's middles, while I talked to the master, and the sun went down with the wind blowing stiff from sou-sou-west, and a gale threatening.

I tell you that I dreamed it--I who am not given to dreams.".