"Let it pass, Edgar. ’Twas in my despair that I reproached thee. It was not just. ’Tis Matthew who shall feel the weight of my displeasure. Landlord, fetch down the lady Gertrude, for we must know all and see if there be aught that can still be done." In a minute or two Gertrude appeared, wild with joy at hearing that her father had at last returned. "Father, Father, how glad I am that thou hast come back!" she cried, throwing herself on her knees and winding her arms about him in joyous rapture. Then, seeing how thin and weak and ill he looked, her gladness gave place to anxiety and concern. "Thou must come back with me to England," she said persuasively, "and let me nurse thee back to health and strength. Thou hast done enough for a little while. How I wish poor Beatrice were here to welcome thee and share my gladness!" "Tell us of the dreadful event," said Sir John, after the first greetings were over. "We must consider what is best to be done. Tell us everything." The story was short enough. It appeared that the day after Edgar’s departure, Beatrice, knowing that he could not be back for a week or more, suddenly determined that she would pay the expected visit to her castle home at Faucigny. Her maid accompanied her, and, at Gertrude’s desire, she took Matthew and another of the Wolsingham men-at-arms as an escort, the forward move of the English forces not having yet begun. Three leagues beyond Bordeaux, whilst passing through a small wood, the party was suddenly ambushed by four men. The man-at-arms was struck down before he could lift a hand in his defence, and on Matthew fell the whole brunt of the attack. He made a splendid defence but was eventually overcome and, covered with wounds, left for dead upon the field. What then happened to the lady Beatrice and her maid no one knew. Fortunately, Matthew was discovered by passing peasants a few hours later and was carried to a hovel a mile or two away. Here he was tended until the arrival of a search party which had been sent out the instant the riderless horse of the man-at-arms galloped back into the camp with blood upon saddle and flank. As soon as he could speak Matthew was eagerly questioned, but was able to tell them little. He could not say what had become of the lady Beatrice. He only knew that one of the ruffians had held her horse by the bridle whilst the other three occupied themselves in overpowering all resistance. Of their assailants all he could tell was that he was certain that he had seen one of them before. This man, too, appeared to be their leader, and he fancied that he must be a man he had once or twice seen lurking about the camp. At this piece of news Edgar and Peter exchanged glances full of anxious significance. "Did he ever describe the man, Mistress Gertrude?" asked Edgar.