"Right readily do I grant you that, sir knight," returned Erasmus smilingly. "This robe, in truth, is one of the heaviest of my burdens. There would be many a naked back, my lord," he added gravely, turning toward Bishop Kennedy, "an the robe were to be stripped from every bigoted hypocrite. It grieves me to admit my belief that steel girded breasts are uniformly more steadfast to their principles than those enveloped within the robe and cowl."
Thus, during the hour of eating, Erasmus held Lord Kennedy and Sir Richard enthralled with the charm and compelling influence of his colloquy, in the course of which he explained to them that he was then journeying from a monastery at Stein to enter the services of the Archbishop of Cambray, and that later it was a part of his plan to go on to Paris, where he intended pursuing his studies under the continued patronage of his amiable and generous master.
Had the scholar touched at all upon the subject of battles, or of deeds of martial gallantry, it is possible that he might again have enticed de Claverlok to give ear. But as it was, that bluff warrior yielded himself in his most heartywise to the business of devastating the remainder of the pasty before him, and maintaining a constant void within the pewter flagon beside his plate. As for the Renegade Duke, Sir Richard noted that his vapid smile had resolved itself into something approaching a drunken leer, and that beneath his vain twaddle there ran a distinct undercurrent of thinly veiled sarcasm. It grew apparent that he was striving desperately to mask his quarrel with the young knight from the understanding of Lord Kennedy. In this Sir Richard was assisting him to his uttermost. Some time before he had conceived the idea that a quarrel and subsequent duel, which he hoped that his blatant guard might secretly arrange, would provide a likely means of escape.
That their combined efforts were unfruitful of misleading the shrewd Bishop was soon made apparent; for, before leaving from beneath the awning with Erasmus, he took the grizzled knight aside, talking earnestly with him for several minutes.
"I am but going to make Erasmus acquainted with some of our famous fellows," he was explaining to de Claverlok, "and shall soon return. Above all things, Sir Lionel," he warned in a whisper, "keep a close eye on the Knight of the Double Rook. Before we came to yonder table I had disquieting news from the scholar from Bannockburn way. Douglas is arming to oppose us, and planning to invade England for a purpose similar with ours. I fear me that he is familiar with every happening within our camp, and doubts have arisen within me as to the Renegade Duke's integrity to our cause. An I am not mistaken, there is a plan afoot to defeat our purpose of delivering the young noble within our northern stronghold. There's something mightily wrong, de Claverlok. Not a breath have I heard from our captive regarding the King's warrant taken from his pouch by Sir James; and yet is he as eager as an unhooded falcon to escape and fare away upon his journey. How it would boot him to go on, I cannot make out. Remember, sir knight," Bishop Kennedy concluded sternly, "that henceforth thou art held responsible for the youth's safe detention; ... by thy knightly oath do we hold thee."
"Aye, my lord," was the extent of de Claverlok's reply, though his tone and manner indicated his determination to be faithful to the trust imposed upon him.
While the three men were seated beneath the awning awaiting Lord Kennedy's return they espied along the road, which wound like a tawny worm beneath the portcullis of the Black Friar's Monastery, a single horseman careering swiftly in the direction of the hill upon which they were stationed. As the rider drew nearer, they could see the glint of the sun's rays upon the burnished trappings of man and horse. Without exchanging a speculative word, their glances followed him till he disappeared at a point where the ochre road was swallowed up in a patch of brilliantly colored gorse. He had likewise been sighted from elsewhere upon the mountain top, for a band of horsemen sallied down from the place of the bivouac and met him precisely at the spot where he again issued into view from behind the bushes. Then, wheeling, they bore him company up the declivitous road. Coincident with their meeting with the men awaiting them above there was a loud shouting of "Douglas! False Douglas, the traitor!" Whereupon Lord Kennedy could be seen striding among them, a trumpeter winded a blast "To horse," and then, amidst a frenzied waving of pennoned lances, the hitherto quiet scene became alive with the scurrying of mailed feet, the noise of creaking saddle girths, the hoarse cries of men, and the loud neighing of horses.
Sir Richard, unable to interpret the meaning of this sudden warlike demonstration, and wondering much at the use of the name of Douglas, regarded it in the light of a most opportune happening. For one thing, it had rid him temporarily of the presence of de Claverlok, who was swinging furiously down the slope bellowing aloud for the Duke's horse, for Sir Richard's, and his own. The young knight at once availed himself of the opportunity of resuming his quarrel with the Renegade Duke; and, as he regarded him scornfully across the board, that individual arose and bowed low before him. In despite of Sir Richard's aversion toward the man, he was obliged to pay tribute within his mind to his singular grace and perfect assurance.
"Why all this mock courtesy," said the young knight quietly, arising also to his feet, "when your blade, my brave Duke, dangles so near to your hand?"
The Renegade Duke stole a glance behind him down the hill, and smiled insolently, coolly, delaying thus his answer for a considerable space.