answered the young man. "I knew him, aye,
studied him in his own court, and though I doubt not there was a time
when chivalry was strongest in the breast of Edward, it was before
ambition's fatal poison had corroded his heart. Now he would deem all
things honorable in the art of war, aye, even the delivery of a castle
through the treachery of a knave."

"And he hath more in yon host to think with him than with the noble
Hereford," resumed Sir Christopher; "yet this is but idle parley, and
concerneth but little our present task. In what temper do our men
receive the tidings of this foul treason?"

"Our own brave fellows call aloud for vengeance on the traitor; nay, had
I not rescued him from their hands, they would have torn him limb from
limb in their rage. But there are others, Seaton--alas! the more
numerous body now--and they speak not, but with moody brows and gloomy
mutterings prowl up and down the courts."

"Aye, the coward hearts," answered Seaton, "their good wishes went with
him, and but low-breathed curses follow our efforts for their freedom.
Yes, it must be, if it be but as a warning unto others. See to it,
Nigel; an hour before the set of sun he dies."

A brief pause followed his words, whose low sternness of tone betrayed
far more than the syllables themselves. Both warriors remained a while
plunged in moody thought, which Seaton was the first to break.

"And how went the last attack and defence?" he asked; "they told me,
bravely."

"Aye, so bravely, that could we but reinforce our fighting men, aided as
we are by impenetrable walls, we might dream still of conquest; they
have gained little as yet, despite their nearer approach. Hand to hand
we have indeed struggled on the walls, and hurled back our foremost foes
in their own intrenchments. Our huge fragments of rocks have dealt
destruction on one of their towers, crushing all who manned it beneath
the ruins."

"And I lie here when such brave work is going on beside me, even as a
bedridden monk or coward layman, when my whole soul is in the fight,"
said the knight, bitterly, and half springing from his couch. "When will
these open wounds--to the foul fiend with them and those who gave
them!--when will they let me mount and ride again as best befits a
warrior? Better slain at once than lie here a burden, not a help--taking
from those whose gallant efforts need it more the food we may not have
for long. I will not thus be chained; I'll to the action,