The gratitude of the merchant and his wife and daughters, now that their alarm had subsided, was very great, and they united in praising Edgar for what they termed his bravery. But Edgar laughed at them, and would have no such term applied to what he called an afternoon's useful practice with the sword. One destined to the trade of arms, he disclaimed banteringly, must regard such a brush as of no more moment than the merchant's assistants did the measuring of a bale of cloth. But the merchant's daughters would not be denied, and showed their admiration of the young esquire by pressing food and dainties upon him, and by washing and tending the cripple lad, the unhappy cause of all the disturbance.

An offer of the loan of a horse gave Edgar an excuse to be gone and to escape from irksome thanks and embarrassingly bright eyes. So as soon as they had finished tending the cripple lad, whose name they soon found out to be Peter, he bade them all goodbye, and, mounting the steed and taking Peter up behind him, set off for Wolsingham once more.

His strange and exciting adventure had ended in the loss of a horse and the winning of a lad. How the latter was to be provided for, Edgar knew no more than he knew, when he set out in the morning, that he would return saddled with such a dependent. It was all very strange, but his mind was fully made up that he could not readily part with a lad for whom he had risked and ventured so much.

CHAPTER V

The Fracas

It was late when Edgar reached the vicinity of Wolsingham, and, preferring to obtain Geoffrey Fletcher's permission before he brought Peter into the castle, he left him for the night at the farmhouse of one of the tenants on the Wolsingham lands. He then rode on to the castle, and, learning that Geoffrey was still up, made his way to him, and related in detail all that had befallen that eventful afternoon. Geoffrey was concerned at the loss of the horse, but made little of the difficulty of the cripple lad. He could, he said, easily find employment for him among the tenantry if he found it impossible to take him into service within the castle. The latter would depend upon his inspection of the lad on the morrow. He congratulated Edgar warmly upon coming out of so serious a fracas with a whole skin, and strongly advised him, if he were still bent upon continuing his lessons with Gaspard, to choose a more public route until such time as the affair was likely to have been forgotten.

During the homeward journey, Edgar had learned from Peter all that he could tell him of his life and parents. As he had expected, the lad's parents were both dead--his mother but a few months since--and he had only been allowed shelter in the house where his parents had lived by the kindness of one of the women of the place. Her husband, however, was of another mind, and, finding that the boy could give nothing in payment, had turned him out of the house.

Again and again he had stolen back, however, and the man's wrath had increased beyond measure as he found him there time after time, until it ended in the more than usually brutal beating which Edgar was fortunately just in time to prevent becoming something worse. Of relations, Peter had none--that he knew of; and without help, sympathy, or hope he would in all probability, if he had survived and had remained in those evil surroundings, have drifted imperceptibly into evil and vicious courses.

From this Edgar's intervention had saved him, and though as yet he did not realize all that it meant, he was deeply grateful for the timely succour.

On the morrow Edgar took Peter in to Geoffrey, and then and there he was placed in charge of the armourer, who had for some time been wanting a boy to work his bellows. With healthy surroundings, good food, and fair treatment, he soon lost much of his frail and ill-nourished appearance, and but for his infirmity would in time have passed muster with other youths of his rank and station. Indeed, even his infirmity gradually lessened, until at last his limp, though still noticeable, marred his appearance rather than his usefulness.