etched
himself and the manacles gleamed on each wide-sundered wrist.

Quoth he:

"What now?"

Whereat the jester, sitting cross-legged upon the floor, looked up at
him and spake on this wise:

"Two days agone as I walked me in the green, dreaming such foolish
dreams as a fool may, there came, very suddenly, a sorry wight--a wild
man, very ragged--who set me his ragged arm about my neck and a sharp
dagger to my throat; and thus, looking him within the eyes, I knew him
for that same Roger from whose hand thou did'st save me aforetime.
'Beda,' says he, 'I am he that hanged and tortured men at my lord's
bidding: I am Roger, and my sins be many.' 'Then prithee,' says I,
'prithee, Roger, add not another to thy sins by cutting the throat of a
fool.' 'Needs must I,' says he, dolorous of voice, 'unless thou dost
answer me two questions.' 'Nay, I will answer thee two hundred an thou
leave my throat unslit,' says I. 'But two,' says Roger, sighing.
'First, doth Pertolepe hold him I seek?' 'Him?' says I. 'Him they call
Beltane?' says Roger, 'doth he lie prisoned within Garthlaxton?' 'He
doth,' quoth I. Now for thine other question. ''Tis this,' says Roger,
'Wilt aid us to win him free?' 'Why look ye, Roger,' says I, ''Tis only
a fool that seeketh aid of a fool--and fool am I.' 'Aye,' says Roger,
'but thou art a live fool; promise, therefore, or wilt be naught but a
dead fool.' 'Roger,' says I, 'thou did'st once try to slay me in the
green ere now.' 'Aye,' says Roger, 'and my lord Beltane saved thy
carcass and my soul.' 'Aye,' quoth I, 'and e'en a fool can repay. So
was I but now dreaming here within this boskage how I might perchance
win this same Beltane to life without thy scurvy aid, Black Roger.
Moreover, methinks I know a way--and thou spare me life to do it.'
'Aye, forsooth,' says Roger, putting away his dagger, 'thou wert ever a
fool of thy word, Beda--so now do I spare thy life, and sparing it, I
save it, and thus do I cut another accursed notch from my belt.' 'Why,
then,' says I, 'to-morrow night be at the riven oak by Brankton Thicket
an hour before dawn.' 'So be it, Beda,' says he, and so I left him
cutting at his belt. And lo, am I here, and within an hour it should be
dawn. Follow, messire!" So saying, Beda rose, and taking the lanthorn,
began to descend through the floor, having first shown how the
flagstone must be lowered in place. Thereafter, Beltane followed the
jester down a narrow stair built in the thicknes