Presently, after some waiting in the rain, and looking up with awe at the massive defences, two knights appeared with outstretched hands of welcome. Down went the drawbridge, up went the portcullis, the horses clattered over the moat, and the reception was hearty indeed. ‘Well met, my Lord of Musgrave! I knew you would soon be where Red Roses grew.’
‘Welcome, Sir Giles! Methought you had escaped after the fight at Hexham.’
‘Glad indeed to meet you, brave Sir John, and you, good Lord of Holmdale! Is all well with the King?’
‘As well as ever it will be. The Constable is nigh at hand! You have brought us a stout band of archers, I see! We will find a use for them if March chooses to show his presumptuous nose here again!’
‘And hither comes my Lord Constable! It rejoices his heart to hear of such staunch following.’
The Earl of Oxford, a stern, grave man of early middle age, was coming across the court-yard, and received Sir Giles with the heartiness that became the welcome of a proved and trustworthy ally. After a few words, Musgrave turned and beckoned to Hal, who advanced, shy and colouring.
‘Ha! young Lord Clifford! I am glad to see you! I knew your father well, rest his soul! The King spoke to me of the son of a loyal house living among the moors.’
‘The King was very good to me,’ faltered Hal, crimson with eagerness.
‘Ay, ay! I sent not after you, having enough to do here; and besides, till we have the strong hand, and can do without that heady kinsman of Warwick, it will be ill for you to disturb the rogue—what’s his name—to whom your lands have been granted, and who might turn against the cause and maybe make a speedy end of you if he knew you present. Be known for the present as Sir Giles counsels. Better not put his name forward,’ he added to Musgrave.
‘I care not for lands,’ said Hal, ‘only to see the King.’