"It may be so, Peter," he replied reluctantly. "I hope it may only be that he hath been detained--perchance because his horse hath cast a shoe--but I cannot help a feeling of dread lest it be that those men have had something to do with it. Didst ever find out aught concerning them?"
"Nothing, save that one of them spoke one day to Sir Gervaise de Maupas; but as he flew into a violent rage at the man accosting him, I did not think there could be any connection between them."
"Ah!" groaned Edgar. "Then I fear the worst. I have not told thee, Peter--and heavy is my responsibility for it--that emissaries of Sir Gervaise did once attempt Sir John's life. Sir John told me in order that I might the better watch over his safety, and right badly have I done it!"
"But scarce could we have prevented this, Master Edgar. None would have thought of watching over Sir John while he was in the saddle and fully armed."
"Nay, but I might have warned him that assassins were on the lurk. But this is no time for self-reproachings. I must do all I can to repair the mischief done. Bring me a spare horse, Peter, and tell Matthew to be in the saddle and ready waiting for me outside the north gate of the town in a quarter of an hour. Late as it is, we must scour the countryside. Sir John may be lying wounded in some lonely wood, or be yet defending himself against cowardly adversaries. Quickly, Peter, for thy master's life!"
Peter limped away at the top of his speed, and Edgar quickly threw off his outer clothes and put on a light shirt of mail made of tiny links of interlaced steel, similar to that which Sir John, as a precaution against his enemy, usually wore when not in armour. The shirt of mail fitted closely, and when his doublet was donned once more no one would have guessed that so thorough a protection lay hidden beneath its folds.
Quick as he was, the lad was back with his horse as soon as he was ready, and Edgar instantly mounted and rode off into the town of Bordeaux, first bidding Peter set to work to find, if possible, some trace of the suspected men.
On arriving at the inn where the ladies Gertrude and Beatrice were staying, Edgar found them still up, anxiously awaiting news.
"He hath not yet returned, then?" he cried, as he saw their anxious faces.
"No. Surely someone hath seen him?" cried Gertrude in alarm.