e had been
warned, and were ready. And there's an envoy from Sypolis arrived; some
think the Assembly has broken up; they were all at daggers drawn. So
much for the Holy League."

"So much for the Holy League," repeated Felix.

"What are you going to do to-day?" asked Oliver, after awhile.

"I am going down to my canoe," said Felix.

"I will go with you; the trout are rising. Have you got any hooks?"

"There's some in the box there, I think; take the tools out."

Oliver searched among the tools in the open box, all rusty and covered
with dust, while Felix finished dressing, put away his parchment, and
knotted the thong round his chest. He found some hooks at the bottom,
and after breakfast they walked out together, Oliver carrying his rod,
and a boar-spear, and Felix a boar-spear also, in addition to a small
flag basket with some chisels and gouges.

CHAPTER III

THE STOCKADE

When Oliver and Felix started, they left Philip, the third and youngest
of the three brothers, still at breakfast. They turned to the left, on
getting out of doors, and again to the left, through the covered passage
between the steward's store and the kitchen. Then crossing the waggon
yard, they paused a moment to glance in at the forge, where two men were
repairing part of a plough.

Oliver must also look for a moment at his mare, after which they
directed their steps to the South Gate. The massive oaken door was open,
the bolts having been drawn back at hornblow. There was a guard-room on
one side of the gate under the platform in the corner, where there was
always supposed to be a watch.

But in times of peace, and when there were no apprehensions of attack,
the men whose turn it was to watch there were often called away for a
time to assist in some labour going forward, and at that moment were
helping to move the woolpacks farther into the warehouse. Still they
were close at hand, and had the day watchman or warder, who was now on
the roof, blown his horn, would have rushed direct to the gate. Felix
did not like this relaxation of discipline. His precise ideas were upset
at the absence of the guard; method, organization, and precision, were
the characteristics of his mind, and this kind of uncertainty irritated
him.

"I wish Sir Constans would insist on the guard being kept," he remarked.
Children, in speaking of their parents, invariably gave them their
titles. Now their father's title was properly "my lord," as he was