"Talk not nor think of that, Sir John, or thou wilt retard thy recovery. We, too, felt the dread spell of those fearful dungeons, but we were two, and could support one another's drooping spirits."
There was a pause for a few minutes, and then Sir John said suddenly: "What of the tournament, Edgar? What thought they of me when I appeared not? Did they think I blenched from the combat?"
"Nay, nay, Sir John--not one," evasively replied Edgar, who rather shrank from the recital of his masquerade as Sir John. It seemed so likely that the knight might resent the liberty, undertaken in his interest though it had been.
"He will have gained nothing by the trick," said Sir John, half to himself, in a despondent tone. "I will see to it that the earl doth know of his baseness, and I doubt if he will dare again to cross my path. Better will it be for him to stay at Ruthènes, where he is in safety among companions as base as himself."
"I could wish that thou wouldst tell me how they made thee prisoner, Sir John," said Edgar, anxious to change the subject. "Thou wert wounded, I know, for when the priest tended thee he found that great gash in thy thigh."
"Aye. Nicely was I tricked. I was riding at my ease along a narrow lane when an old woman stopped me and asked an alms. As I stooped, two men, with swords drawn, sprang out upon me from the shelter of some bushes near by. I was quick enough to be ready for their onslaught, but as I slashed at them, my horse sank suddenly to the ground--hamstrung by a third man whose approach I had not seen. As I fell, I received a swordthrust in the thigh, and before I could rise I was seized by so many hands that all resistance was futile. I was bound hand and foot, conveyed to a farmer's wagon in waiting close by, and flung unceremoniously into it. Two men mounted, and we drove on for days, whither I knew not, until we reached yon gloomy castle. Then came De Maupas's offer and my refusal. What befell after that thou know'st better than I, for what with my wound, my rage against De Maupas, and the dreadful gloom and dampness of my cell, I fell sick and my senses left me. It all seems like an evil dream. Were it not for my weakness and this cart, I should look to wake up at Wolsingham or Bordeaux once again."
In due course the wagon and its occupants arrived at the inn where the ladies Gertrude and Beatrice had made their temporary home. Gaily Edgar hailed the good man, for their troubles seemed to be at an end. Sir John was back again and, though still weak and feeble, had been rapidly on the mend ever since he had been taken from the castle.
"The ladies Chartris and D'Alençon, landlord! Tell them the knight Sir John is back," cried Edgar, springing down from his seat on the wagon and aiding Peter to lift Sir John down and carry him into the inn.
"Ah! sir----" cried the landlord. Then he stopped and stared uncomfortably from Edgar to Sir John and back again.
"What is it, man?" cried Sir John, with sudden apprehension. "Doth aught ail them? Which is it? Speak!"