"Now hither to me Walkyn, Giles and Roger. Ye do remember how upon a time we met a white friar in the green that was a son of God—they call him Brother Martin? Ye do remember brave Friar Martin?"
"Aye, lord, we mind him!" quoth the three.
"Ye will remember how that we did, within the green, aid him to bury a dead maid, young and fair and tender—yet done to shameful death?"
"Verily master—a noble lady!" growled Walkyn.
"And very young!" said Roger.
"And very comely, alas!" added Giles.
"So now do I tell thee that, as she died—snatched out of life by brutal hands—so, at this hour, even as we stand idle here, other maids do suffer and die within Belsaye town. To-day, as we stand here, good Friar Martin lieth within the noisome water-dungeons where rats do frolic—"
"Ha! the pale fox!" growled Walkyn. "Bloody Gui of Allerdale that I do live but to slay one day with Pertolepe the Red—"
"Thou dost remember, Roger, how, within the Keep at Belsaye I sware an oath unto Sir Gui? So now—this very hour—must we march on Belsaye that this my oath may be kept." But here a murmur arose that hummed from rank to rank; heads were shaken and gruff voices spake on this wise:
"Belsaye? 'Tis a long day's march to Belsaye—"