"Release my bridle," commanded Beatrice indignantly. "Thou wilt make me wish that Aymery or Roland were Sir John's esquire instead of thee, Edgar Wintour."
"'Twould be strange if thou didst not do so a'ready," replied Edgar calmly. "I have no claims to their flattering tongues or courtly ways. But if ever a time of stress cometh mayhap thou wilt then be the less discontented."
"Art going to lead me back to our party with hand on my bridle?" cried Beatrice haughtily, albeit with a hint of pleading in her voice.
"Nay, I will not so humiliate thee. But remember, Beatrice, ours is an expedition of war, and not a pleasure excursion. Obedience must needs be given."
"Surely thou art taking thy first command over-seriously," replied Beatrice scoffingly. "What need is there to exact obedience from Gertrude and me? We are not men-at-arms."
"This reason, Beatrice. At our last stop I was informed that the district was infested with robbers and brigands, who had become much emboldened since interest had been so centred in the war. What then if ye had become lost and had fallen into their hands?"
"I would that the robbers would capture thee, Edgar Wintour," cried Beatrice quickly, as she galloped back to Gertrude's side.
Edgar laughed, though somewhat ruefully, and followed her example.
The rest of the journey passed without incident. Oftentimes, however, Edgar found his energies taxed to the utmost to keep the spirits of his young charges within reasonable bounds. Sometimes they scoffed at him and sometimes defied him, but with the aid of a half hint that if the worst came to the worst they would have to ride behind a man-at-arms, he managed to keep them in fair order. It was with a sigh of relief, so far as they were concerned, however, that he rode into Dover town.
Sir John had arrived and was awaiting their coming at the rendezvous agreed upon. After the first greetings were over, and the ladies were as comfortably disposed of as the crowded state of the inns would allow, he led Edgar aside.