"And wherefore?"
"Because, whenever it is known that you are in the land of the living and at liberty, both of you are certain to have instructions to proceed south without delay to embark for Guienne. But who is the muffled man?"
"One to whom we are much indebted," said I.
"And one whose face is not wholly unknown to Sir John Copeland," said our guide, throwing aside his muffler and showing his face.
"Ah, Roger! Roger!" exclaimed Copeland in accents of sad reproof, "it grieves me to think that the day should ever have come when your father's son had to hide his face from living mortal, and that mortal an Englishman and a Copeland."
"Reproach me not with the past," said the other imploringly, "but listen to my prayer, and grant it for the sake of those who sleep where the weary are at rest."
"Yes, sir knight," said I earnestly, "upbraid him not. Let bygones be bygones."
"Nay," exclaimed Copeland, "I am not the person to be hard on a broken man, whose conscience, doubtless, reproaches him often enough. And now, Roger," added he, "I listen to your prayer. What is it you require of me?"
"Your good word and influence to win me a pardon," was the answer.
The Governor of Roxburgh paused, meditated, and then, looking full at the petitioner, smiled grimly, with a peculiar expression on his countenance.