e the one to go, my Lord," said Chandos; "my men are
aver kept in readiness, and a night's gallop will do the lazy knaves
all the good in the world."

Arthur, brushing off the tears, of which he was much ashamed, looked at
the old Knight in transport.

"Thanks, Chandos," said the Prince; "I would commit the matter to none
so willingly as to you, though I scarce would have asked it,
considering you were not quite so prompt on a late occasion."

"My Lord of Pembroke will allow, however, that I did come in time,"
said Sir John. "It was his own presumption and foolhardiness that got
him into the scrape, and he was none the worse for the lesson he
received. But this young fellow seems to have met with this mischance
by no fault of his own; and I am willing to see him righted; for he is
a good lad as well as a brave, as far as I have known him."

"How came the tidings?" asked the Prince. "Did not one of you boys say
somewhat of a man-at-arms?"

"Yes, my Lord," said Arthur; "John Ingram, my uncle's own yeoman, has
come upon Brigliador with all speed. I sent him to the guard-room,
where he now waits in case you would see him."

"Ay," said old Chandos, "a man would have some assurance that he is not
going on a fool's errand. Let us have him here, my Lord."

"Cause him to be summoned," said the Prince to Arthur.

"And at the same time," said Chandos, "send for my Squire, Henry
Neville, to the ante-chamber. The men may get on their armour in the
meantime."

In a few minutes John Ingram made his appearance, the dust not yet
wiped from his armour, his hair hanging is disordered masses over his
forehead, and his jaws not completely resting from the mastication of a
huge piece of pasty. His tale, though confused, could not be for an
instant doubted, as he told of the situation in which he had left
Chateau Norbelle and its Castellane, "The best man could wish to live
under. Well, he hath forgiven me, and given me his hand upon it."

"Forgiven thee--for what?" said the Prince.

"Ah! my Lord, I may speak of treason, but I am one of the traitors
myself! Did not the good Knight leave me in charge to make my rounds
constantly in the Castle, while he slept after his long watching? and
lo, there comes that wily rascal, the Seneschal, Sanchez, with his
''Tis a cold night, friend John; the Knight wakes thee up early; come
down to the buttery, and crack a cup of sack in all friendliness!'
Down then go I, oaf that I was, thi