He paused and eyed the lads narrowly, endeavouring to note the effect of his words. But, receiving no reply to his somewhat vague utterances, the knight continued—
"Certes, 'tis strange how the wheel of fate is ordered by small matters. When my brother, Sir Yves, fell beneath thy father's hand, Master Geoffrey, only his son stood betwixt me and the castle and estates of Malevereux. Henri was ever a lusty youth, and bade fair to live to a green old age—always excepting the chance of dying in harness. Yet, alas and alack! he must needs attempt to swallow a carp's bone, with the result that I am an uncle no longer."
Once more Sir Denis paused, a hypocritical look of sorrow overspreading his saturnine features.
"And mark ye, carp, lordly salmon, and the roast beef ye Islanders boast so much about! On these he was fed by thy father's bounty, while I have given thee but craven fare. Fie on me! Yet I will make amends. As Lord of Malevereux—for such I now am—'tis in my power to do so. More, 'tis my wish. Therefore I give you both your freedom."
The youths could scarce grasp the full significance of the word "freedom." To them the ever-present longing for liberty had grown fainter and fainter, till only a feeble hope was left them. Now, with startling suddenness, freedom awaited them.
"Sir Knight, I thank thee," exclaimed Geoffrey when at length he found words.
"Nay, 'tis nought," replied Sir Denis. "I trust that Malevereux will be at peace with its neighbours. But, fair sirs, of your charity pray for the soul of Henri de Valadour, my nephew. By so doing my reward for the deed is assured."
"When are we permitted to leave the castle?" asked Oswald.
"When ye list. There is no time like the present, fair sirs. But I must needs point out that my act of clemency is ill-regarded by a section of the garrison, therefore 'twould be better to depart secretly. Though the night be dark, the way is easy. Therefore, when we have supped I myself will conduct ye to the postern."
So saying, Sir Denis clapped his hands, and in response to the summons a serving-man entered the cell bearing a trencher loaded with good cheer. After months of poor fare the repast was doubly welcome, though in their excitement the lads could scarce do justice to the tempting viands.