"She told me afterwards, my lord," replied the young Englishman, "that her cousin Nicholas and his wife had deceived her, and, anxious to convert or pervert her to their own notions, had taken her to this place, without letting her know whither she was going. She says they will acknowledge it themselves, if they are questioned, and also that she strove to go away when she found where she was, but was prevented by them. However, knowing her to be a good catholic, and certain that the whole matter was contrived out of some malice towards her, I had no hesitation in hastening to her deliverance. I used no farther violence than was needful to set her free, took no part in delivering the others, of whose religious notions I knew nothing, and--"
"The greater part of them escaped, it seems," said the Lord of Croy.
"With that I had nothing to do," replied Richard of Woodville. "I contented myself with cutting the cords they had tied round the poor girl's wrists; and making my way with her out of the hall, leaving the monks and their menée to settle the matter with the others as they thought fit."
"And where is the maiden now, my friend?" asked the Count de Charolois.
"I instantly sent her out of the town with three of my men," replied Richard of Woodville. "I thought it the surest course."
The Count looked at the Lord of Croy, as if for him to speak; and the young English knight, somewhat hastily concluding that they entertained doubts of his word, exclaimed, after a moment's pause, "I trust that you do not disbelieve me, sir? You cannot suppose that an English gentleman, of no ill repute, would tell you a falsehood in a matter such as this?"
"No, no, my friend, no, no," replied the Count, "I do not doubt you for a moment. I only look to our good comrade here, to speak what is very unpleasant for me to say. Indeed, I do not know how to explain it to you; for you will naturally think that my father's power ought to be sufficient to protect one of his own knights against his own people."
"The truth is, Sir Richard," said the Lord of Croy, "that the citizens of Ghent are an unruly race; and if they once get you in their hands, they may treat you ill. If my lord the Count were to resist them, there is no knowing what they might do. I would not answer for it, in such a case, that we should not see them in arms before the castle gate, ere noon to-morrow."
"That shall never be on my account, noble prince," replied the knight, turning to the Count; "but, under these circumstances, it were wise in me to quit the town of Ghent."
"That is exactly what I wish to say," answered the Prince; "but, in truth, it seems most ungrateful of me to propose such a thing to you, my friend. Undoubtedly, if you are not pleased to go, I will defend you here to the best of my power; and my father would soon give us aid, in case of necessity; but I need not tell you, that to have Ghent again in revolt, just on the eve of a new war with the Armagnacs in France, might be ruinous to all his schemes, and fatal to his policy. Moreover, if they were to accuse him of countenancing heresy here, it would do him a bitter injury; for the people in Paris have just pronounced that the sermon preached by one of his doctors, Jean Petit, is heretical."