“Then you will be beaten.”
“And bear it; it was all my doing.”
At that moment the heavy doors swung open, and they stood in the presence of the two mightiest earls of the Midlands. They stood as two culprits, Hubert very sheepish, with his head cast down, Martin with a comical mixture of resignation and apprehension.
“How is this?” said the Earl Simon. “I hear that you two killed the good deerhound of my brother of Warwick.”
“It was I, my lord, not Hubert.”
“They were both together,” whispered the Earl of Warwick. “I saw not who did the deed.”
“We may believe Martin.”
“So thou dost take all the blame upon thyself, Martin.”
“All the blame, if blame there was, my lord.”
“If blame there was! Surely thou art mad, boy! and thy back will verify the force of Solomon’s proverb, a rod for the fool’s back, unless thou change thy tone and ask pardon of my good brother.”