“What can this mean, Ralph?” Walter exclaimed. “We are in the lowest dungeon, and below the level of the river. See how damp are the walls, and the floor is thick with slimy mud. The river must run but just below that loophole, and in times of flood probably enters here.” Phillip of Holbeaut, on dismounting, ascended to an upper chamber, where a man in the dress of a well-to-do citizen was sitting. “Well, Sir Phillip,” he exclaimed, rising to his feet as the other entered, “what news?” “The news is bad,” the knight growled. “This famous scheme of yours has cost me fifty of my best men. I would I had had nothing to do with it.” “But this Walter Somers,” the other exclaimed, “what of him? He has not escaped surely! The force which marched from Amiens was large enough to have eaten him and his garrison. “He has not escaped,” the knight replied. “Then he is killed!” the other said eagerly. “No; nor is he killed. He is at present a prisoner in a dungeon below, together with a stout knave whom he begged might accompany him until ransomed.” “All is well then,” the other exclaimed. “Never mind the loss of your men. The money which I have promised you for this business will hire you two hundred such knaves; but why didst not knock him on head at once?” “It was not so easy to knock him on the head,” Sir Phillip growled. “It cost us five hundred men to capture the outer walls, and to have fought our way into the keep, held, as it was, by men who would have contested every foot of the ground, was not a job for which any of us had much stomach, seeing what the first assaults had cost us; so the count took them all to quarter. The rest he carried with him to Amiens; but their leader, according to the promise which he made me, he handed over to me as my share of the day's booty, giving me every charge that he should receive good and knightly treatment. “Which, no doubt, you will observe,” the other said, with an ugly laugh. “It is a bad business,” the knight exclaimed angrily, “and were it not for our friendship, in Spain, and the memory of sundry deeds which we did together, not without profit to our purses, I would rather that you were thrown over the battlements into the river than I had taken a step in this business. However, none can say that Phillip of Holbeaut ever deserted a friend who had proved true to him, not to mention that the sum which you promised me for my aid in this matter will, at present time, prove wondrously convenient. Yet I foresee that it will bring me into trouble with the Count of Evreux. Ere many days a demand will come for the fellow to be delivered on ransom.” “And what will you say?” the other asked.