"Ho," said the reeve, with his hand on his sword hilt, "who comes?"
"Is that you, reeve? Well glad am I. Are you out with a posse against those knaves at the ford?"
"Eh," said the reeve, while we all halted, "is the ford beset with the Welsh?"
The man laughed somewhat.
"Not Welsh, but thieves of nearer kin. I ride homeward along the river bank, and they stop me. It seemed to put them out that my horse is not skew-bald, and that I am alone. However, they would rob me."
The reeve whistled under his breath.
"How have you got away?" he asked.
"Rode over one of them who held my horse. There was one after me, or more."
Now the reeve turned to me.
"What is to be done?" he said blankly. "This is what we had to fear most of all. This is surely Gymbert with his men."