And at that I laughed. It was so good to feel that this enemy of mine feared me. At that laugh -- and it sounded not like my own, even to myself -- the man writhed, and besought me again for mercy. But I had no mind to kill him, and a thought crossed me.
"Matelgar bade you slay me," I said, "that I know. Tell me why he has sought my life and I will spare you."
"Master," said the man hastily, "I knew not whom I was to slay. Matelgar bade me follow Gurth yonder, and smite whom he smote."
"It would have mattered not -- you would have slain me as well as any other."
"Nay, master," the man said earnestly, "that would I not."
"You lie," I answered curtly enough; "like master like man. Tell me what I bade you."
"Truly I lie not, Heregar," cried he, "for I love my mistress over well to harm you."
Now at that mention of Alswythe the blood rushed into my face, for I had held her false with the rest, and this seemed to say otherwise, unless the plot had been hidden from such as this man. But I would fain learn more of that, for the sake of the hope of a love I had thought true.
"What is your mistress to me?" I asked. "Ye are all alike."
I think the man could see well at what I aimed, for he spoke of the Lady Alswythe more freely than he would have dared at other times, nor would I have let him name her lightly.