By midday the last signs of the siege were gone, the ashes of the circling camp fires were cold, and the great drawbridge was down once more. A messenger was sent to the Tarn Rock to bring in the horses and their guards. In the sunny spring afternoon, when we went forth to reconnoiter the deserted camps of our enemies, I rode at my father’s side, wearing for the first time the gold-hilted sword which had been brought from Damascus. Two months later, the King returning to London, confirmed my father in possession of his estates, and sent messengers to old Lord Carleton demanding his instant attendance at court. Again the Old Wolf was ill, too much so to obey the command of his sovereign; but this time he was not to rise from his bed as soon as the messengers had turned their backs. The wound in his throat made by Marvin’s bolt had never fully healed, and now this, coupled with his old distemper, had laid him low. Even while the heralds waited, the priest in the great upper chamber was saying the prayers for the dying. At sunset on that day, I could see from the Tarn Rock the blue and white banner of Carleton flying at half mast over the battlements of Teramore. CHAPTER III—CEDRIC THE FORESTER It was on a sunny noontide, in fair October, some six months after we had driven the hounds of Carleton from our castle of Mountjoy, that I was riding in the forest, three leagues and more from home, on the way to see my cousins of Leicester at their manor by the edge of Pelham Wood, and mayhap to share with them one of those goodly pasties of venison which their table never lacks. My bonny white mare, Clothilde, did amble along the woodland path with dainty and springing steps, as though ’twere joy enough to be abroad and lightly burdened on such a day; and it seemed to me I felt my youth and growing bones and sinews as ne’er before. As I passed the Tarleton Water which was rippling most sweetly under the sun glints, I was minded of a fair dream that had come to me on that night we halted the second assault of the Carletons, and after old Marvin had bathed and dressed the wound I had from a cross-bow bolt. Here was the sparkling water, just as I had seen it then, and the glimmering of the light on the oak leaves of red and brown and gold; and here was I astride the goodly mare that I had raised and broken from a colt, and on an errand far enough removed from the grim business of that dark and dangerous time.