"What, you do not answer me? Know you that you do wrong in making me angry? I tell you it would be an easy matter to put another in the already flowing prisons of England, and so I bid you beware. What did you discover at the lonely house, and what did you bring away?"
"You should already know, Your Grace," I replied boldly, for by this time all my fear of him had gone. Perhaps my anger had driven it away. If it had, it were no wonder, for had I been a lackey he could not have spoken with less courtesy, while the thickness of his voice, and his rheumy eyes, made me feel sure that he had been drinking heavily.
"What mean you, young malapert?" he asked.
"I mean that I was attacked by men who used your name when riding to London," I answered; "that they dragged me from my horse, and searched me to the skin. If I had possessed aught they would surely have brought it to you."
At this I was in doubt as to what course he would take. I saw the blood mount to his cheek, and anger gleam from his eyes, while he lifted his hand as if he would strike me. But this was only for a moment. Instead of yielding to anger he burst into a great laugh, as though he had heard a good joke.
"Ha, ha!" he cried, "you discovered that you could do nought without discovery, eh? You found out that the royal arm can strike far, eh? You learnt that you cannot hunt in royal domains without being bitten by the keeper's dogs? Is that not so, my young springald?"
"The king's brother is not the king," I cried, for now I saw that unless I would place myself entirely in his power I must take a bold course.
"What mean you?" he cried.
"I mean that when I have discovered aught that affects the king, I will bear my message to the king," I replied, "but, until then, I will hold my peace as a man should."
"I have a good mind to send you to the dungeons."