arrived at Ludlow, with a letter for the king; and as
there was no other way of bringing it forward, I volunteered to carry
it, with my man-at-arms, here."

"It was a brave offer, young sir, but I fear that you will scarce be
able to carry it into effect. The men who came here report that it is
unsafe to stir a yard from the camp; for those who wander away, for
however short a distance, are sure to be slain by the lurking Welshmen.
No resistance is offered when strong parties go out, but less than two
hundred men-at-arms cannot hope to move, unattacked."

"'Tis for that reason that I have come on foot," Oswald said. "I saw
that it would be hopeless for two horsemen to get through, but on foot
we may travel through the woods without being discovered; while if we
are seen, methinks it would need speedy feet to catch us."

"Well, since you bear a royal letter I cannot stop you; but it seems to
me that your chance of getting through is small, indeed."

Chapter 17: Knighted.

Rain was coming down in torrents, when Oswald and Roger started the
next morning. On leaving the town they turned to the left, with the
intention of making a considerable detour; keeping well away from the
road, as it was near this that the Welsh would be most likely watching.
They chose this side because, to the right of the road, the country was
more broken, rising swell after swell towards Plinlimmon; and it was
likely that the largest portion of the Welsh would be on that side, so
that they could, at any time, retire to their fastnesses.

They were soon in the woods. The streams they met with were turbid, and
full to the brim.

"We shall have trouble with this water, Roger," Oswald said, as they
waded across one, waist deep. "This is but a little stream, but if
there are larger ones, as is like enough, we shall have to swim before
we are done. There is one advantage; in such weather as this, even the
Welsh will scarce be active."

"They have not got much clothing to wet," Roger said. "Their dress is
better suited than ours for such weather."

The way was a rough one. Hills, although of no great height, had to be
crossed, and many streams to be waded. Fortunately, they met with few
larger than that they had first crossed; for the water from that side
of the hills made its way, for the most part, direct into the Severn;
while that which came down from the slopes of Plinlimmon, towards the
road, fell into a stream; dry in fine weather,