Hugh had been a prisoner two days when his guards forced him to remove his armour and accept in its stead a woollen cloak to cover his gambeson and quilted drawers. They searched him carefully from head to foot, and took every piece of metal in his possession, even to a medallion of St. Cuthbert which Prior Thomas had given him as a charm to ward off evil. His chief cause for regretting this deprivation was the disappointment his father experienced. Sir James had taken a child-like pleasure in donning the mail and accustoming his muscles to exercise again under the weight of armour. But it showed that their enemies were not forgetting them, and spurred Hugh on to seek a means of escape. Several weeks passed without incident. Then one evening the door clashed open and Bartolommeo strode in, the six tongueless Ethiopians at his heels. "Ha, fair sirs," he cried. "How like you this unwonted comradeship? Do you not owe old Bartolommeo a blessing for the service he hath done you? Ay, many folk have said that Bartolommeo had no heart and served the devil! Mayhap, mayhap! But certes he played the rôle of guardian angel when he brought you twain together. How now? How now? Hast talked things over? Art in better frame of mind, Messer Hugh? And you, Sir James--art prepared to be communicative? I have an offer for you, a pledge, an undertaking--ay, a veritable bargain such as one trader makes to another. Belike, you will chaffer with me." "With you, Bartolommeo, or with your master?" asked Sir James drily. "A shrewd wit, oh, a shrewd wit," chuckled Bartolommeo. "Ay, you are never sleeping when there is craft afoot. Well, what say you, Messers?" "There is naught to go upon save Mocenigo's word, then?" said Sir James. Bartolommeo cocked his head on one side. "Hast clapped your finger on the worm-hole in the apple," he assented. "Ay, but beggers may not be choosers, an you please, Sir James; and we have you, as I might say, with a dagger to your throat and your helmet-laces cut." "'Twas so I deemed it," returned Sir James. "There is naught to answer. You know me by now, Bartolommeo, and you know, too, that if you have me here, no less have I that which you seek here." He touched his head. "So you have, so you have," Bartolommeo agreed cheerfully. "Ay, and so hath the good youth, your son. 'Tis a tender morsel this sweet chit, Sir James, not used to dungeon fare or the torments of the rack. Mayhap, you would prefer to save him from the torment." "I would rather he were torn limb from limb than that the secret you seek were imparted to your masters," replied Sir James shortly. "But an you tortured him you would gain naught. You know this, knave, so why clamour uselessly? 'Tis a false scent." Bartolommeo chuckled again.