"My thanks, my lord, my deepest thanks." He unstrung his bow and leaned upon the stave; a fine figure in forest green and velvet bonnet, a black mask over eyes and nose, a generous mouth and strong chin below it. "Will your worship favor me with your dagger?" he said.
The Knight tossed it to him.
"Thank you … a handsome bit of craftsmanship … these stones are true ones, n'est ce pas?"
"If they are not, I was cheated in the price," De Lacy laughed.
The other examined it critically.
"Methinks you were not cheated," he said, and drew it through his belt. "And would your lordship also permit me a closer view of the fine gold chain that hangs around your neck?"
De Lacy took it off and flung it over.
"It I will warrant true," he said.
The outlaw weighed the links in his hand, then bit one testingly.
"So will I," said he, and dropped the chain in his pouch.