"I am he, fair sir," replied Richard, with like salute.
"I am rejoiced to see your safety. Your messengers have arrived. We expected your coming. Know that I am Bertrand, squire of the Baron, your grandfather; and this is his good vassal the castellan, Sir Oliver de Carnac; in our Lord's name we greet you well and all your company."
So Richard thanked them for their courtesy, and then questioned:—
"And is my lord the Baron well?"
But at his words a great cloud lowered on the face of the squire, and he turned to De Carnac; and that stern-faced knight began to look very blank, though saying nothing. Then Bertrand began hesitatingly:—
"It grieves me, fair lord; but the Baron is very ill just now; the skill of the monks of St. Julien does nothing for him."
"Ha!" exclaimed the Norman. "I give him joy; I have here a famous Spanish knight, who, besides being a mighty cavalier, knows all the wisdom of the paynim schools, which, if very bad for the soul, is sovereign for the body."
"No skill avails, lord," said Bertrand, looking down. "He is blind."
"Blind!" came from Longsword. "When? how? he did not write."
"No, fair sir; three days since it happed; and I have a sorry tale to tell."