Sir Richard had known at once for whom the boys had been dispatched, and was relieved to discover that the part of his plan relating to the imprisoned maiden was turning out so happily. He was puzzled to understand, however, why the boys had been stationed at such a great distance from the Red Tavern. It was at least a full day's journey from that part of the forest to the inn. It occurred to him that Douglas might have sent guards ahead of the foot-boys, and that when the maid did put in her appearance, it would be in the company of an armed band. While he was trying to arrive upon the wisest course of action, fragmentary whisperings between the foot-boys were carried to his ears.
"By the mass!" one of them was saying, "an it were not for the patch on the eye, and the scrag o' beard on the chin, I would take my oath that 'tis the very knight who overthrew every fighting Jack in Castle Yewe. Can'st not tell, Thomas, by the sweep o' the nose o' him, and the sharp eye—and the brow?"
"Marry! Mayhap, and 'tis," the other said. "I saw him but the once, you must remember. 'Twas when he cut him down the mighty Sandufferin. He was certes a——"
"Hark ye, boys," Sir Richard broke in upon their whispered conversation; "an I agree to yield you somewhat of my assistance, will you take oath with raised hands not to make mention of this meeting to thy master?"
Upon such easy terms they both seemed delighted to purchase the young knight's aid. He thereupon lined them along the road, with uplifted hands, and caused them to repeat the most solemn oath within his power to conjure up. Instructing them to await his return, and promising to do his best to bring along the maiden, he left them smiling by the roadside and fared on southward.
Within a very short time he had drawn clear of the forest. Looking to the left, he noted the spur of stunted pines sweeping down over the moor. Beyond it he could see the bleak dunes and the promontory upon which had been pitched the pavilion of purple and black. The gray mist rising out of the sea made an appropriate and effective background for it all.
His mind was deeply engaged with the subject of his quest, when, upon rounding a rather lofty brae, he came suddenly upon the Red Tavern. Surprised beyond the power of speech, thought, or action he reined in his stallion. For a considerable time he sat motionless, taking in the different points of the structure. There were left no doubts, when he had finished with his examination, but that it was the same. With a redoubled intensity of imagery, the weird tales of the haunted, flying tavern came trooping back to his mind.
How under the heavens the inn had come there he made no attempt to fathom. It occurred to him at first that it must have been standing there all along, but he dismissed this thought when he had noted the fact that, during his enforced march with Bishop Kennedy's company, he would have been obliged to pass beside its door. That it was indeed there, and a palpable something to be accounted for, however, he could no longer deny.
"Well," Sir Richard at length concluded, "I made my entrance upon this mysterious series of mishaps through yon sinister door. 'Twould be most fitting that my exit from them should be by the same route."
Whereupon, like a man in a trance, he rode up, dismounted, and knocked aloud upon the red-daubed planks.