n, ye friend o' mine--
If I should eat, and ye should drink,
Who shall sing the mass, d'ye think?"

Lawless, alas! rolling drunk, was wandering the house, seeking for a
corner wherein to slumber off the effect of his potations. Dick inwardly
raged. The spy, at first terrified, had grown reassured as he found he
had to deal with an intoxicated man, and now, with a movement of
cat-like rapidity, slipped from the chamber, and was gone from Richard's
eyes.

What was to be done? If he lost touch of Lawless for the night, he was
left impotent, whether to plan or carry forth Joanna's rescue. If, on
the other hand, he dared to address the drunken outlaw, the spy might
still be lingering within sight, and the most fatal consequences ensue.

It was, nevertheless, upon this last hazard that Dick decided. Slipping
from behind the tapestry, he stood ready in the doorway of the chamber,
with a warning hand upraised. Lawless, flushed crimson, with his eyes
injected, vacillating on his feet, drew still unsteadily nearer. At last
he hazily caught sight of his commander, and, in despite of Dick's
imperious signals, hailed him instantly and loudly by his name.

Dick leaped upon and shook the drunkard furiously.

"Beast!" he hissed--"beast and no man! It is worse than treachery to be
so witless. We may all be shent for thy sotting."

But Lawless only laughed and staggered, and tried to clap young Shelton
on the back.

And just then Dick's quick ear caught a rapid brushing in the arras. He
leaped towards the sound, and the next moment a piece of the
wall-hanging had been torn down, and Dick and the spy were sprawling
together in its folds. Over and over they rolled, grappling for each
other's throat, and still baffled by the arras, and still silent in
their deadly fury. But Dick was by much the stronger, and soon the spy
lay prostrate under his knee, and, with a single stroke of the long
poniard, ceased to breathe.

CHAPTER III

THE DEAD SPY

Throughout this furious and rapid passage, Lawless had looked on
helplessly, and even when all was over, and Dick, already re-arisen to
his feet, was listening with the most passionate attention to the
distant bustle in the lower storeys of the house, the old outlaw was
still wavering on his legs like a shrub in a breeze of wind, and still
stupidly staring on the face of the dead man.

"It is well," said Dick, at length; "they have not heard us, praise the
saints! But,