and purposeful, his mouth grim-smiling; even as
they watched he beckoned Walkyn and Eric to him and spake certain
commands what time the trumpet brayed again in summons fierce and
arrogant.

"Good master Reeve," quoth Beltane, as Walkyn and Eric, obedient to his
word, moved into the square to right and left, each with his company,
"there is one without that groweth impatient. Let us therefore parley
with him from the battlement above the gate."

"Ah, messire," sighed the Reeve, "to what end? 'Tis Sir Robert's
summons, and well I know he will demand speech with my lord Gui--alas
for us and for Belsaye town!"

"Nay," answered Beltane, "be comforted. Answer as I shall direct and
fear ye nothing. Come your ways."

Now when Roger turned and would have followed, Giles plucked him by the
arm:

"Roger," quoth he, "Sir Robert will demand speech of Gui of Allerdale,
mark ye that, my Rogerkin. Nor will he speak to any but Sir Gui--for a
great lord and proud is Robert of Hurstmanswyke. Ha, what think ye,
Roger?"

"I think perchance he must go dumb then--come, let us follow."

"Nay, but speak he must--since he may tell us much, aye, and speak he
shall. So come, my Rogerkin, hither with me!"

"With thee, Giles? And wherefore?"

"A wile, sweet Roger, a notable wile--a wile of wiles. Hush! speak not,
but come--for mark this:

"In faith a cunning man is Giles
In counsel sage and full of wiles!"

"So come, Rogerkin!" So saying, he gripped stout Roger's arm and
plunged into the crowd.

Being come out upon the battlement above the gate, Beltane, with the
Reeve beside him, peering down through the dark, beheld beyond the
moat, a knight supported by four esquires, and beyond these Beltane
counted thirty lances what time the Reeve, steadying his voice,
challenged them.

Hereupon the knight spake:

"Ha! do ye stir at last, dogs! Open in the Duke's name--'tis I, Robert,
lord of Hurstmanswyke, with message to the lord Seneschal, Sir Gui, and
captives from Bourne!"

Then, grim-smiling in the dusk, Beltane spake: "Now greeting and
fair greeting to thee, my lord, and to thy captives. Hath Thrasfordham
fallen so soon?"

"Thrasfordham, fool! 'tis not yet invested--these be divers of
Benedict's spies out of Bourne, to grace thy gibbets. Come, unbar--down
with the drawbridge; open I say--must I wait thy rogue's pleasure?"

"Not so, noble lord. Belsaye this night doth welcome thee with open
arms--and ye be in sooth Sir Robe