nor the
cold of the freezing night had any force to shadow or distract their
happiness.

At length, from a rising hill, they looked below them on the dell of
Holywood. The great windows of the forest abbey shone with torch and
candle; its high pinnacles and spires arose very clear and silent, and
the gold rood upon the topmost summit glittered brightly in the moon.
All about it, in the open glade, camp-fires were burning, and the ground
was thick with huts; and across the midst of the picture the frozen
river curved.

"By the mass," said Richard, "there are Lord Foxham's fellows still
encamped. The messenger hath certainly miscarried. Well, then, so
better. We have power at hand to face Sir Daniel."

But if Lord Foxham's men still lay encamped in the long holm at
Holywood, it was from a different reason from the one supposed by Dick.
They had marched, indeed, for Shoreby; but ere they were half-way
thither, a second messenger met them, and bade them return to their
morning's camp, to bar the road against Lancastrian fugitives, and to be
so much nearer to the main army of York. For Richard of Gloucester,
having finished the battle and stamped out his foes in that district,
was already on the march to rejoin his brother; and not long after the
return of my Lord Foxham's retainers, Crookback himself drew rein before
the abbey door. It was in honour of this august visitor that the windows
shone with lights; and at the hour of Dick's arrival with his sweetheart
and her friend, the whole ducal party was being entertained in the
refectory with the splendour of that powerful and luxurious monastery.

Dick, not quite with his good will, was brought before them. Gloucester,
sick with fatigue, sat leaning upon one hand his white and terrifying
countenance; Lord Foxham, half recovered from his wound, was in a place
of honour on his left.

"How, sir?" asked Richard. "Have ye brought me Sir Daniel's head?"

"My lord duke," replied Dick, stoutly enough, but with a qualm at heart,
"I have not even the good fortune to return with my command. I have
been, so please your grace, well beaten."

Gloucester looked upon him with a formidable frown.

"I gave you fifty lances,[3] sir," he said.

"My lord duke, I had but fifty men-at-arms," replied the young knight.

"How is this?" said Gloucester. "He did ask me fifty lances."

"May it please your grace," replied Catesby smoothly, "for a pursuit we
gave him but the horsemen."

"I