"Aye. Nicely was I tricked. I was riding at my ease along a narrow lane when an old woman stopped me and asked an alms. As I stooped, two men, with swords drawn, sprang out upon me from the shelter of some bushes near by. I was quick enough to be ready for their onslaught, but as I slashed at them, my horse sank suddenly to the ground--hamstrung by a third man whose approach I had not seen. As I fell, I received a swordthrust in the thigh, and before I could rise I was seized by so many hands that all resistance was futile. I was bound hand and foot, conveyed to a farmer’s wagon in waiting close by, and flung unceremoniously into it. Two men mounted, and we drove on for days, whither I knew not, until we reached yon gloomy castle. Then came De Maupas’s offer and my refusal. What befell after that thou know’st better than I, for what with my wound, my rage against De Maupas, and the dreadful gloom and dampness of my cell, I fell sick and my senses left me. It all seems like an evil dream. Were it not for my weakness and this cart, I should look to wake up at Wolsingham or Bordeaux once again." In due course the wagon and its occupants arrived at the inn where the ladies Gertrude and Beatrice had made their temporary home. Gaily Edgar hailed the good man, for their troubles seemed to be at an end. Sir John was back again and, though still weak and feeble, had been rapidly on the mend ever since he had been taken from the castle. "The ladies Chartris and D’Alençon, landlord! Tell them the knight Sir John is back," cried Edgar, springing down from his seat on the wagon and aiding Peter to lift Sir John down and carry him into the inn. "Ah! sir----" cried the landlord. Then he stopped and stared uncomfortably from Edgar to Sir John and back again. "What is it, man?" cried Sir John, with sudden apprehension. "Doth aught ail them? Which is it? Speak!" "Oh, my lord, ’tis not the lady Gertrude--she is above. ’Tis the lady Beatrice." "Ah! But what has chanced? Canst not speak? Is she dead?" "Nay, nay--she is not dead. She hath been carried off by robbers or outlaws--none knoweth by whom. The lady Gertrude is in despair. We have done all we could to find where she hath been taken, but without avail." "Woe, woe!" cried the knight, sinking back on the couch on which he had been placed. "Enemies seem to encompass me and mine. She was placed in my charge and I have failed in my duty. Why didst leave the ladies all unguarded, Edgar, to come to my aid? That was not well thought of. I cannot value my rescue if it hath been obtained at the expense of my ward’s life and honour." "I gave the ladies into Matthew’s charge, Sir John," replied Edgar brokenly. "How could I think aught would befall? Reproach me not, I beg of thee, for I feel I cannot forgive myself--and yet, could I let thee perish without a blow struck?"