"Desperate knaves, one and all; and look ye, they would have slain—"
"Aye?" nodded Beltane.
"All the off-scourings of town and village—and look ye, they would—"
"Aye," said Beltane.
"Thieves, rogues and murderers, branded felons, runaway serfs and villeins—"
"'Tis well," said Beltane, "so shall they be my comrades henceforth."
"Thy comrades!" stammered the archer, staring in amaze—"thy comrades! These base knaves that would have hanged me—me, that am free-born like my father before me—"
"So, peradventure, Giles, will we make them free men also. Howbeit this day I seek them out—"
"Seek them—'tis death!"
"Death let it be, 'tis none so fearful!"