It was but a spring from the walls to safety, and Edgar struggled fiercely to fling off his many assailants. A desperate effort freed his right arm, and a heavy blow rid him of one of them for a time. But he was no nearer even temporary freedom, for one of the men had clutched him firmly round the waist from behind with one hand while with the other he seized him by the hair and dragged his head forcibly back. Slowly but surely, notwithstanding his most frantic efforts, Edgar found his head dragged relentlessly back until his neck seemed on the point of snapping beneath the cruel strain. To struggle on was hopeless, and, weak from his exertions and with his senses nearly gone, Edgar allowed his arms to be drawn behind his back and there secured without further resistance. Torches were brought. One was thrust close to Edgar’s face--so close that his hair was singed and his cheek scorched--and a man peered searchingly at him. [Illustration: "A TORCH WAS THRUST CLOSE TO EDGAR’S FACE"] "I know not the varlet," he growled, and Edgar recognized the voice of the man who had first spoken and who had admitted himself to be Eustace de Brin. "He seemeth not to belong to these dogs of peasants who would dearly love to bite the hand of their master an they got the chance. Here, camarade, perchance this is one of the hounds thou hast feared might be on thy track." A man who had held aloof from the struggle came forward at the call, and Edgar, whose head had now been released from its intolerable strain, had no difficulty in recognizing, in spite of his bandages, the fierce eyes and harsh visage of Sir Gervaise de Maupas. The recognition was mutual, for with a shout of astonishment and savage joy, the knight cried: "It is! It is! This is none other than that braggart esquire of whom I told thee, Eustace." "What! The boy who gave thee that clout in the lists that nearly sent thee where thou art so eagerly awaited?" cried De Brin with a loud laugh. "Nay, Eustace," cried De Maupas, giving the speaker no very friendly look. "He is the boy who played me a base trick that by an unfortunate mischance I could not frustrate. But he will play me no more. Give him to me, Eustace, as an earnest of the goodwill thou hast so often spoken of, but of which I have seen little enough solid evidence; as some slight return, too, for the many profitable ventures I have put thee in the way of." "Well, well, we will talk more of that anon, camarade Gervaise. The disposal of the boy’s body is nothing to me, so long as he is punished for his insolent daring in scaling the walls of my castle; but first I must know how we stand in this business. D’ye know the other man?" Peter was next examined. "Yes," growled the knight, "this dog is one of the plotters. He is somewhat of a cripple--Baulch hath told me of him--but is not too crippled to give us trouble. Guard him well, Eustace, or thou wilt regret it."