“Your pardon, Master Hastings, for the affronts that this bastard lordling has put upon you, an honest man. I tell you that he is a loose-living knave, as you would agree if you knew all his story, a cockatrice that for my sins I have nurtured in my bosom. ‘Tis he that has wasted all my substance; ‘tis he that has made free of my name, so that I fear me you are defrauded. ‘Tis he that uses my house as though it were his own, bringing into it vile women of the Court, and men that are viler still, however high their names and gaudy their attire,” and he choked with his wrath and stopped.
“Why do you suffer these things, sir?” I asked.
“Forsooth because I must,” he answered sullenly, “for he has me and mine by the throat. This Deleroy is very powerful, Master Hastings. At a word from him whispered in the King’s ear, I, or you, or any man might find ourselves in the Tower accused of treason, whence we should appear no more.”
Then, as though he wished to get away from the subject of Deleroy and his hold upon him, he went on:
“I fear me that your money, or much of it, is in danger for Deleroy’s bond is worthless, and since the land is already pledged without my knowledge, I have nowhere to turn for gold. I tell you that I am an honest man if one who has fallen into ill company, and this wickedness cuts me deep, for I know not how you will be repaid.”
Now a thought came to me, and as was my bold fashion in all business, I acted on it instantly.
“Sir Robert Aleys,” I said, “should it be pleasing to you and another, I can see a way in which this debt may be cancelled without shame to you and yet to my profit.”
“Then in God’s name speak it! For I see none.”
“Sir, in bygone time, as it chanced I was able yonder at Hastings to do some service to your daughter and in that hour she took my heart.”
He started but motioned to me to continue.