The young prince, like the knight, gave the respectful ceremony of departure to the Lady of Wartmont, but much of youthful frankness mingled with his words and manner to Richard.
"I envy thee, indeed," he said to him, "thy close with the Club of Devon. I have never yet had such a fortune befall me. I have seen fights by sea and land, but ever some other hand than mine struck the best blow."
"Thou wilt strike blows enough before thou art done, thou lion's cub of England," said Sir Walter admiringly, for he loved the boy. That was good reason, too, why he was with him on this journey with so small a company.
"Few, are they?" had Richard responded to a word from his mother concerning peril to the prince. "I have marked them, man by man. I think they have been picked from the best of the king's men-at-arms. A hundred thieves would go down before them like brambles before a scythe. And the prince told me he thought it scorn to need other guards than his own people——"
"And his own sword," she said, "and the lances of De Maunay and his men. But the roads are not safe."
"Thou wilt be securely conveyed to Warwick, O my mother," he said lovingly. "I will not leave thee until thou art within the earl's own walls."
This had been spoken early in the day after the conflict with the outlaws, and now the horsemen were in their saddles, beyond the bridge of the moat, waiting for the prince and the knight.
Their waiting ended, and it was fair to see how lightly the great captain and his young friend, in spite of their heavy armor, did spring to horseback.
Gracious and low was their last salute to the bare, white head of Lady Maud at the portal, and then away they rode right merrily.