"It is a wise grandfather who knows his own grandson."
"Thou knowest many things; the boy is so like my poor——" he hesitated, and suppressed a name; "that, hard as my heart is, he has softened it: his voice, his manner, his gestures, tell me——"
"I cannot as yet."
"Dost thou know?"
"Only that old Sexwulf would not wilfully deceive."
"And is that all thou hast to say?"
"No, wait, keep the boy near thee, thou shalt know in time; thy men are calling for thee—hark thee, Sir Brian, the men of Donnington are out."
"That for them," and the Baron snapped his fingers.
When he rejoined his troop, he found them in a state of great excitement, which was explained when they pointed to moving objects some two or three miles away on the downs; the quick eye of the Baron immediately saw that it was a troop which equalled his own in numbers.
"The witch spoke the truth," he said; and eager as a war-horse sniffing the fray afar, he gave the word to ride towards the distant party, which rapidly rose and became distinct to the sight.