“Dear heart, do not grieve,” he said tenderly. “I pledge my faith your brother is better already. Would I had thought of it in time, and there might have been a horseman travelling all night to York, bringing you later tidings of him; but I am ever behindhand with my purposing, and remember a project when it is too late to put it into action. Many a fight that same backhandedness has led me into. I am for ever trusting the wrong man and laying myself open to his craft, yet am I hail-well-met with the next, learning no lesson from experience. Talking of this thrust your brother got, I remember well, two years ago, when three men who bore me no good will came to me and said the Earl of Traquair had bade them make peace with me. I was very willing and struck hands with them. So off we set together, at their behest, to Traquair’s Castle, that we might ratify our compact, for the Earl was a good friend of mine. We had gone near on five miles, and were chatting pleasantly together, when in the twinkling of an eye the three set on me. Three to one is no odds for an active man to grumble at if he can face them and has a rock or a tree at his back, but we were on the open plain, and I had a blade in my ribs before I could put hand to hilt. I drove Bruce at the first assailant and, ran him through as he went down. Then I cut for it till the followers were separated; so I turned on the one nearest me, gave him his dose, and chased the third man until I began to sway in my saddle. If he had but known and halted, he would have won an easy victory. Well, there were three good honest, satisfying wounds on three men,--each, I venture to say, worse than the one your brother got, and no doctor within thirty miles; yet the three of us are as hearty to-day as if we didn’t know what a sword was made for. So have no fear about your brother. He’ll be out and about by the time you are home again.” “Your story reminds me of the Roman tale. It was a cowardly act of your three enemies.” “I think it was rather that way. I did not heed their onslaught so much as their pretence of friendliness beforehand. Still, we mustn’t be too critical when a feud is forward. Things are done then that we are sorry for afterward.” “I judge from what you say that you have forgiven the three?” “Oh, as for that, I had forgotten all about them; it was your brother’s case brought them to mind. I suppose I have forgiven them; but if I met them on the road here I’d loosen the sword in its scabbard and be prepared for blade or hand, whichever they offered. But come, we have now a level road before us. Let us gallop. There’s nothing so cheers the mind as a charge on a good horse. We will make old John stir his stumps.”