"I must have better proof.—Here," he exclaimed, loudly clashing his irons at the same time, "Here, thou Dogget-warder, son of a Saxon wolfhound!"
The Palmer, striking on the door, seconded the previous exertions for summoning the jailer, who entered accordingly.
"Warder," said Damian de Lacy, in a stern tone, "am I yet thy prisoner, or no?"
The sullen jailer consulted the Palmer by a look, and then answered to Damian that he was a free man.
"Then, death of thy heart, slave," said Damian, impatiently, "why hang these fetters on the free limbs of a Norman noble? each moment they con-fine him are worth a lifetime of bondage to such a serf as thou!"
"They are soon rid of, Sir Damian," said the man; "and I pray you to take some patience, when you remember that ten minutes since you had little right to think these bracelets would have been removed for any other purpose than your progress to the scaffold."
"Peace, ban-dog," said Damian, "and be speedy;—And thou, who hast brought me these good tidings, I forgive thy former bearing—thou thoughtest, doubtless, that it was prudent to extort from me professions during my bondage which might in honour decide my conduct when at large. The suspicion inferred in it was somewhat offensive, but thy motive was to ensure my uncle's liberty."
"And it is really your purpose," said the Palmer, "to employ your newly-gained freedom in a voyage to Syria, and to exchange your English prison for the dungeon of the Soldan?"
"If thou thyself wilt act as my guide," answered the undaunted youth, "you shall not say I dally by the way."
"And the ransom," said the Palmer, "how is that to be provided?"