"Where?"
"Just dismounting in the courtyard."
"Call to him to come up at once; he will have news from Wilton."
Osric leant out of the narrow window, which in summer was always open.
"Alain! Alain!" he cried, "come up hither, my lord is impatient for your tidings."
Alain waved back a friendly greeting and hurried up the stairs.
"Joy, my Lord, joy; thine enemy is in thy hands."
"Which one, my squire? I have too many enemies to remember all."
"William Martel, Lord of Shirburne."
"Ah, now we shall get Shirburne!" cried Osric.