"Lost! Look around.

Twenty fires are in sight--ay, thirty, and every fire thou seest will summon a hundred men, at the least, to arms.

Before an hour, five hundred men will be gathered before the gates of Whalley Abbey." "True," replied Demdike; "but they will not own the Earl of Poverty for their leader." "What leader will they own, then ?" demanded the abbot, scornfully.
"The Earl of Derby," replied Demdike.

"He is on his way thither with Lord Mounteagle from Preston." "Ha!" exclaimed Paslew, "let me go meet them, then.

But thou triflest with me, fellow.