night is asking for you, don't you
hear?"

A slight scuffle was heard, and in a few seconds the broad figure of
Ingram shouldered through the midst of the men-at-arms. He came,
almost like a man in a dream, to the middle of the room, and there,
suddenly dropping upon his knees, he clasped his hands, exclaiming, "I,
John Ingram, hereby solemnly vow to our blessed Lady of Taunton, and
St. Joseph of Glastonbury, that never more will I drink sack, or wine
or any other sort or kind, spiced or unspiced, on holiday or common
day, by day or night. So help me, our blessed Lady and St. Joseph."

"Stand up, John, and let us know if you are in your senses," said
Gaston, angrily; "we have no time for fooleries. Let us know whether
you have been knave, traitor, or fool; for one or other you must have
been, to be standing here sound and safe."

"You are right, Sir Squire," said Ingram, covering his face with his
hands. "I would I were ten feet underground ere I had seen this day;"
and he groaned aloud.

"You have been deceived by their arts," said Eustace. "That I can well
believe; but that you should be a traitor, never, my trusty John!"

"Blessings on you for the word, Sir Eustace!" cried the yeoman, while
tears fell down his rough cheeks. "Oh! all the wine in the world may
be burnt to the very dregs ere I again let a drop cross my lips! but it
was drugged, Sir Eustace, it was drugged--that will I aver to my dying
day."

"I believe it," said Eustace; "but we must not wait to hear your tale,
John. You must take horse and ride with all speed to Bordeaux. One of
you go and prepare a horse--"

"Take Brigliador!" said Gaston; "he is the swiftest. Poor fellow! well
that I spared him from our journey amid the mountain passes."

"Then," proceeded Eustace, "bear the news of our case--that we have
been betrayed--that Clisson will be on us immediately--that we will do
all that man can do to hold out till succour can come, which I pray the
Prince to send us."

"Take care to whom he addresses himself," said Gaston. "To some our
strait will be welcome news."

"True," said Eustace. "Do thy best to see Sir John Chandos, or, if he
be not at the court, prefer thy suit to the Prince himself--to any save
the Earl of Pembroke. Or if thou couldst see little Arthur, it might
be best of all. Dost understand my orders, John?"

"Ay, Sir," said Ingram, shaking his great head, while the tears still
flowed down his cheeks; "but to see