a
very keen edge to my blade."

"Well said, old war-dog!" cried Aylward. "By my hilt! I pray that your
dream may come true, for the prince hath not set us out here to drink
broth or to gather whortle-berries. One more fight, and I am ready to
hang up my bow, marry a wife, and take to the fire corner. But how now,
Robin? Whom is it that you seek?"

"The Lord Loring craves your attendance in his tent," said a young
archer to Alleyne.

The squire rose and proceeded to the pavilion, where he found the knight
seated upon a cushion, with his legs crossed in front of him and a broad
ribbon of parchment laid across his knees, over which he was poring with
frowning brows and pursed lips.

"It came this morning by the prince's messenger," said he, "and was
brought from England by Sir John Fallislee, who is new come from Sussex.
What make you of this upon the outer side?"

"It is fairly and clearly written," Alleyne answered, "and it signifies
To Sir Nigel Loring, Knight Constable of Twynham Castle, by the hand of
Christopher, the servant of God at the Priory of Christchurch."

"So I read it," said Sir Nigel. "Now I pray you to read what is set
forth within."

Alleyne turned to the letter, and, as his eyes rested upon it, his face
turned pale and a cry of surprise and grief burst from his lips.

"What then?" asked the knight, peering up at him anxiously. "There is
nought amiss with the Lady Mary or with the Lady Maude?"

"It is my brother--my poor unhappy brother!" cried Alleyne, with his
hand to his brow. "He is dead."

"By Saint Paul! I have never heard that he had shown so much love for
you that you should mourn him so."

"Yet he was my brother--the only kith or kin that I had upon earth.
Mayhap he had cause to be bitter against me, for his land was given to
the abbey for my upbringing. Alas! alas! and I raised my staff against
him when last we met! He has been slain--and slain, I fear, amidst crime
and violence."

"Ha!" said Sir Nigel. "Read on, I pray you."

"'God be with thee, my honored lord, and have thee in his holy keeping.
The Lady Loring hath asked me to set down in writing what hath befallen
at Twynham, and all that concerns the death of thy ill neighbor the
Socman of Minstead. For when ye had left us, this evil man gathered
around him all outlaws, villeins, and masterless men, until they were
come to such a force that they slew and scattered the king's men who
went against them. Then, coming forth f