Myles darted after him, caught him midway in the quadrangle, and brought him back by the scuff of the neck, squalling and struggling.
“There!” said he, still panting from the chase and seating the boy by no means gently upon the bench beside Wilkes. “Sit thou there, thou imp of evil! And now tell me what thou didst mean by thy words anon—an thou stop not thine outcry, I will cut thy throat for thee,” and he made a ferocious gesture with his dagger.
It was by no means easy to worm the story from the mischievous little monkey; he knew Myles too well to be in the least afraid of his threats. But at last, by dint of bribing and coaxing, Myles and his friends managed to get at the facts. The youngster had been sent to clean the riding-boots of one of the bachelors, instead of which he had lolled idly on a cot in the dormitory, until he had at last fallen asleep. He had been awakened by the opening of the dormitory door and by the sound of voices—among them was that of his taskmaster. Fearing punishment for his neglected duty, he had slipped out of the cot, and hidden himself beneath it.
Those who had entered were Walter Blunt and three of the older bachelors. Blunt's companions were trying to persuade him against something, but without avail. It was—Myles's heart thrilled and his blood boiled—to lie in wait for him, to overpower him by numbers, and to mutilate him by slitting his ears—a disgraceful punishment administered, as a rule, only for thieving and poaching.
“He would not dare to do such a thing!” cried Myles, with heaving breast and flashing eyes.
“Aye, but he would,” said Gascoyne. “His father, Lord Reginald Blunt, is a great man over Nottingham way, and my Lord would not dare to punish him even for such a matter as that. But tell me, Robin Ingoldsby, dost know aught more of this matter? Prithee tell it me, Robin. Where do they propose to lie in wait for Falworth?”
“In the gate-way of the Buttery Court, so as to catch him when he passes by to the armory,” answered the boy.
“Are they there now?” said Wilkes.
“Aye, nine of them,” said Robin. “I heard Blunt tell Mowbray to go and gather the others. He heard thee tell Gosse, Falworth, that thou wert going thither for thy arbalist this morn to shoot at the rooks withal.”
“That will do, Robin,” said Myles. “Thou mayst go.”