"On your oath! on your oath, sirrah!" thundered Thomas de Curthose. "Was not his name 'Kenric?'"
"I think it was 'Kenric.'"
"Look at the person at the bar." The man did so; but reluctantly, and with an evident tremor.
"Is not that man 'Kenric,' the brother of 'Eadwulf the Red?'"
"That man is 'Eadwulf the Red'—I have sworn it."
"And art forsworn, in swearing it. But again, thou hast sworn, 'that on the third morning, after taking scent of the fugitive from the place of the deer and manslaying, and after hunting him constantly with bloodhounds, you lost all track of him on the bare moor in Borland Forest?'"
"Why, ay! I have sworn that; it is quite true," said the man, seemingly reassured, at the change of the line of examination.
"I doubt it not. Now, when did the hounds take the scent again?"
"Why, not at all. We saw he was making for the sands, and so squandered ourselves in parties, and on the second morning, at daybreak, saw him crossing them."
"How far off was he, when you saw him?"