"Nay, nay, Father, ’tis far from that. Indeed there is no need to trouble Sir James or the earl. Thine honour is safe. Edgar should have told thee all and not left it to me." "Gertrude," cried Sir John, with a touch of sternness, "there is some mystery here. Tell me what it may mean. Delay not, girl." Without more ado Gertrude related to her father the events that followed the first discovery of his disappearance--how, as the hours passed by, they had grown convinced that De Maupas in some way had had him removed with the object of disgracing him by his failure to appear in the lists, and how at last Edgar, to save his honour, had determined to personate him. "What!" interrupted Sir John at this point. "Personate me! But surely not in the combat in the lists?" "Yes, yes, in the lists. ’Twas to save thine honour, and to punish Sir Gervaise." "’Twas a bold thought," murmured Sir John in wonderment. "But how could he hope for aught but defeat against such a lance as De Maupas? And yet he seemeth to have come to no great harm." "He did not, Father. The first onset was terrific, but neither gained much advantage, though Sir Gervaise’s steed lost its balance and rolled over. But in the encounter on foot Edgar handled Sir Gervaise most roughly, and with a single axe-blow felled him senseless to the ground." "What! He won?" cried Sir John in utter astonishment. "You tell me he won? Truly never have I heard the like since the days of the paladins of old. Ah, it must be to his extraordinary earnestness to learn that he oweth so great a victory. His hard schooling at Gaspard’s and his constant practice elsewhere--ho! ho! De Maupas was well repaid, and that right quickly, for his black treachery." "None know the truth but ourselves," Gertrude went on. "Everyone believed that Sir John Chartris left the camp immediately after the encounter to pay the visit to Faucigny for which he had a few days before obtained the earl’s permission. All is well, Father, and thou canst take up the threads where they fell when thou wert stolen away." "Not so, my child," said Sir John thoughtfully. "I cannot allow laurels undeserved to be bestowed upon me so freely. I must let the earl know the truth. Think not that I am the less indebted to Edgar for his daring and successful championing of my cause. Had De Maupas been allowed to win his bloodless victory, a dark cloud of disgrace and suspicion would have gathered about my poor name, and hard to disperse should I have found it. A few might have believed my tale, but the greater part would have continued to shake their heads dubiously whenever my name was mentioned. As it is, I can tell the earl the story of my capture at the same time that I tell him ’twas not I that appeared in the lists. All will thus be well. Scarce a soul but will then believe the tale." "Edgar will surely be sorry. He will think thou art flinging away the fruits of his victory."