As the fist of Hildebrand beat upon the door of the dwelling, the voice of Theron answered from within: “Who knocks?”
“Open in the King’s name!” Hildebrand cried, imperiously. He could hear the voice of Theron inside repeat his words: “‘In the King’s name!’”
In another moment Theron opened the door and came out, closing it carefully behind him.
“Who calls me in the King’s name?” he asked, gazing in astonishment at the brilliant youth who had summoned him.
“I am the Lord Hildebrand, the King’s friend,” Hildebrand answered, impatiently, holding out the ring. “Here is the King’s signet. He bids you by my lips that you gather up your great sword and go to Syracuse with what speed you may, for he has work for you.”
Theron gave a heavy groan.
“Work for me?” he echoed.
“Ay, work for you!” Hildebrand retorted. “You have been idle a great while, gaffer, but your age-long holiday dies to-day. We are no longer in the reign of King Robert the Foolish.”
Theron shook his head in protest.
“King Robert the Good,” he murmured.