Great was the delight and astonishment of Sir John Hacket and his men on Raymond's reappearance, for he had been given up for lost; and greater was the Constable's surprise when his squire, pointing to the litter, exclaimed with pardonable pride: "Behold, sir, I bring thee the Count of Tancarville according to thy instructions."
Having handed over his three prisoners and given a brief account of his adventures, Raymond retired to a tent to enjoy a well-earned meal and a rest. From one of the archers he learned that his father, maddened by grief and rage at the supposed loss of his son, had obtained permission to join for the time being the Sussex company of Sir Guy of Bramber, vowing that twenty Norman lives would but ill-balance Raymond's death.
The squire's leisure was of short duration, for Sir John Hacket came in person to inform him that the King had ordered him to appear before him.
Raymond's eyes sparkled with delight, for this was a step at least towards his coveted reward, and hastily attiring himself suitably for the royal presence, he followed the Constable to the King's pavilion.
It was a large tent, hung with damask, and divided into two parts by a heavy curtain. In the ante-room were crowds of knights awaiting an audience, their names and titles being carefully set down by a herald, while another, stationed at the flap of the partitioning curtain, where two knights in full armour stood on guard, announced the various personages who had business with their Sovereign.
Each knight who was ushered into the inner apartment had but a short stay in the royal presence, and to Raymond, as he waited in breathless expectation, it seemed as if there was a continuous procession of warriors, some elated with the prospect of praise and honour, others nervously ignorant of why they were summoned thither; while others, knowing that their master had cause for displeasure, were pacing the crowded ante-chamber, biting their lips in their anxiety.
All the while a buzz of suppressed voices was heard from the inner room, and occasionally Edward's hearty voice could be clearly distinguished as he praised or chid according to the merits or demerits of the person before him.
Suddenly the sound of a galloping horse was heard, coming rapidly nearer, then, amid a hum of ill-concealed excitement, a knight, covered in mud from head to foot, and breathless from hard riding, burst into the ante-chamber.
"Ah, Sir William!" he exclaimed to the royal herald, "I pray thee announce me to the King with all despatch. The matter brooks not delay!" And clanking in his heavy armour at the heels of the herald he disappeared behind the curtain that concealed the royal presence from the crowd of waiting knights.
"'Tis Lord Bassett," whispered Sir John to his squire. "Certes, some event of much moment hath occurred to bring him from the field. Hearken!"