ure, which the young so seldom fear, lay before them.

As they descended the steps their eyes fell upon the figure of a
tall man clad in a pilgrim's cape, hood and low-crowned hat, of
which the front was bent upwards and laced, who carried in his
hand a palmer's staff, and about his waist the scrip and
water-bottle.

"What do you seek, holy palmer?" asked Godwin, coming towards
him. "A night's lodging in my uncle's house?"

The man bowed; then, fixing on him a pair of beadlike brown eyes,
which reminded Godwin of some he had seen, he knew not when or
where, answered in the humble voice affected by his class:

"Even so, most noble knight. Shelter for man and beast, for my
mule is held without. Also--a word with the lord, Sir Andrew
D'Arcy, for whom I have a message."

"A mule?" said Wulf. "I thought that palmers always went afoot?"

"True, Sir Knight; but, as it chances, I have baggage. Nay, not
my own, whose earthly gear is all upon my back--but a chest, that
contains I know not what, which I am charged to deliver to Sir
Andrew D'Arcy, the owner of this hall, or should he be dead, then
to the lady Rosamund, his daughter."

"Charged? By whom?" asked Wulf.

"That, sir," said the palmer, bowing, "I will tell to Sir Andrew,
who, I understand, still lives. Have I your leave to bring in the
chest, and if so, will one of your servants help me, for it is
heavy?"

"We will help you," said Godwin. And they went with him into the
courtyard, where by the scant light of the stars they saw a fine
mule in charge of one of the serving men, and bound upon its back
a long-shaped package sewn over with sacking. This the palmer
unloosed, and taking one end, while Wulf, after bidding the man
stable the mule, took the other, they bore it into the hall,
Godwin going before them to summon his uncle. Presently he came
and the palmer bowed to him.

"What is your name, palmer, and whence is this box?" asked the
old knight, looking at him keenly.

"My name, Sir Andrew, is Nicholas of Salisbury, and as to who
sent me, with your leave I will whisper in your ear." And,
leaning forward, he did so.

Sir Andrew heard and staggered back as though a dart had pierced
him.

"What?" he said. "Are you, a holy palmer, the messenger of--" and
he stopped suddenly.

"I was his prisoner," answered the man, "and he--who at least ever
keeps his word--gave me my life--for I had been condemned to
die--at the price that I brought this to you, and t