"Nay, look at the livery—murrey slashed with green—he is of the household of Sir John Chandos."
"Then something of importance hath taken place. I would 'twere good tidings from France!"
Leaving a dense white cloud of chalky dust behind him, the messenger clattered down the road, pulled up for a moment at the outer gateway to reply to the challenge of the guard, then spurred madly across the courtyard to the foot of the steps leading to the keep. Here a page ran forward to hold his horse, and, throwing himself wearily from the saddle, the rider staggered up the steps and disappeared under a low archway that gave access to the Constable's quarters.
An hour passed ere the messenger reappeared, and, after draining a cup of wine, he remounted and spurred his horse on his homeward journey.
While the two squires were debating over the matter, a page sought them, summoning Raymond to instantly repair to Sir John's apartment.
With beating heart, as if anticipating some good fortune, Raymond followed the page, and was ushered into the Constable's presence, where he found that Redward was already before him. It was a long, narrow room, lighted with lancet windows and hung with rich arras. At one end was a heavy table littered with papers and plans, and, for the nonce, unmindful of the dignity of his position, Sir John was sitting on its edge, swinging one leg, with the air of a man who is occupied by a perplexing problem.
Directly the page had retired, the Constable signed to Redward to draw a thick hanging over the door.
"Raymond," quoth he, "the King hath done us a signal honour. A messenger hath arrived with orders for me to send a trusty squire to the Countess of Montfort, who, as ye know, is beleaguere in Hennebon. 'Twill be a grave and hazardous task, yet withal one of great honour. To my mind, I cannot name a more promising messenger than thee. Art willing to take the risk?"
"To have a chance to distinguish myself in the King's service is my ardent desire, sir!"
"'Tis well. Now listen. Hennebon is on the sea coast of Brittany, betwixt the great River Loire and the town of Brest. As the foemen lie thick around it, and have also, I doubt not, a strong water-guard, 'tis a matter of stratagem rather than open work. But, in any case, this packet must be delivered into the hands of the Countess at all costs—at all costs, I repeat. I give thee a free hand in the matter. Take what men thou dost deem fit—though, methinks, the smaller the party the more chance of success."