us
servants, who waited there upon his smallest gesture. Instantly, without
the church, a tucket sounded shrill, and through the open portal archers
and men-at-arms, uniformly arrayed in the colours and wearing the badge
of Lord Risingham, began to file into the church, took Dick and Lawless
from those who still detained them, and closing their files about the
prisoners, marched forth again and disappeared.

As they were passing, Joanna held both her hands to Dick and cried him
her farewell; and the bridesmaid, nothing downcast by her uncle's
evident displeasure, blew him a kiss, with a "Keep your heart up,
lion-driver!" that for the first time since the accident called up a
smile to the faces of the crowd.

CHAPTER V

EARL RISINGHAM

Earl Risingham, although by far the most important person then in
Shoreby, was poorly lodged in the house of a private gentleman upon the
extreme outskirts of the town. Nothing but the armed men at the doors,
and the mounted messengers that kept arriving and departing, announced
the temporary residence of a great lord.

Thus it was that, from lack of space, Dick and Lawless were clapped into
the same apartment.

"Well spoken, Master Richard," said the outlaw; "it was excellently well
spoken, and, for my part, I thank you cordially. Here we are in good
hands; we shall be justly tried, and, some time this evening, decently
hanged on the same tree."

"Indeed, my poor friend, I do believe it," answered Dick.

"Yet have we a string to our bow," returned Lawless. "Ellis Duckworth is
a man out of ten thousand; he holdeth you right near his heart, both for
your own and for your father's sake; and knowing you guiltless of this
fact, he will stir earth and heaven to bear you clear."

"It may not be," said Dick. "What can he do? He hath but a handful.
Alack, if it were but to-morrow--could I but keep a certain tryst an
hour before noon to-morrow--all were, I think, otherwise. But now there
is no help."

"Well," concluded Lawless, "an ye will stand to it for my innocence, I
will stand to it for yours, and that stoutly. It shall naught avail us;
but an I be to hang, it shall not be for lack of swearing."

And then, while Dick gave himself over to his reflections, the old rogue
curled himself down into a corner, pulled his monkish hood about his
face, and composed himself to sleep. Soon he was loudly snoring, so
utterly had his long life of hardship and adventure blunted the sense