"I have ordered my knave to bring you a furred dressing-gown, and a bottle of essence of maydew," cried Sir Edward Hungerford, with a light laugh; "supposing you must be cold, with your forest lodging, and your complexion sadly touched with the frosty air. But what does the magnanimous Sir William Catesby do, cantering abroad at this hour of the morning? Beware of rheums, Sir William, beware of rheum! Don't you know that the early morning air is evil for the eyes, and makes a man short-breathed?"
"This is no time for bantering, sirs," exclaimed Catesby. "Are you prepared to resist the royal authority? If so, I have but to order one blast upon a trumpet, and you will be surrounded by seven hundred men."
"We come to resist no lawful authority, but merely to help a friend," replied Sir Wilhelm Arden; "and, in doing so, I care not whose head I split, if it comes in my way."
"Peace, peace, Arden," cried Chartley, "Let me answer him. What do you want with me, Sir William? and why am I assailed by your men, if they are yours, while peaceably pursuing my way?"
"Pooh, pooh, my lord," answered Catesby. "Do not assume unconsciousness. Where is the bishop? Will you give him up?--or, if you like it better, the friar who rode with you from Tamworth yesterday?"
"As for a bishop," answered Chartley, laughing, "I know of no bishops; and as for the friar, if he be a bishop, it is not my fault; I did not make him one. Friar I found him, and friar I left him. He remained behind, somewhat sick, at the abbey."
"Then what do you here, my lord?" demanded Catesby, "tarrying behind in the forest, while all your company have gone forward?"
"In truth, good Sir William," answered the young nobleman; "whenever I am brought to give an account of all my actions, you shall not be my father confessor. I will have a more reverend man. But you have not yet answered my question; why I am menaced here by these good gentlemen in steel jackets?"
"You shall have an answer presently," replied Catesby; and, stooping down over his saddle bow, he conversed for a moment or two with one of the men who had been first upon the ground, and who now stood dismounted by his side. Then raising his head again, he said: "There were three people left your company, my lord, a moment or two since. Two have returned, I am told, and one was received into the abbey. Who was that person?"
"You must ask those who went with her," replied Chartley. "They have known her longer than I have, and can answer better. My acquaintance with her"--he added, as he saw a meaning smile come upon Sir Edward Hungerford's lip--"my acquaintance with her has been very short, and is very slight. I have acted as was my devoir towards a lady, and have nought farther to say upon the subject."