"They will stare after no more wenches now," said the boor--"I have cured him of caterwauling." "Thou!" said Amelot, stepping back in disgust and indignation. "Yes, I myself," replied the peasant; "I am Grand Justiciary of the Commons, for lack of a better." "Grand hangman, thou wouldst say," replied Genvil. "Call it what thou list," replied the peasant. "Truly, it behoves men in state to give good example. I'll bid no man do that I am not ready to do myself. It is as easy to hang a man, as to say hang him; we will have no splitting of offices in this new world, which is happily set up in old England." "Wretch!" said Amelot, "take back thy bloody token to them that sent thee! Hadst thou not come upon assurance, I had pinned thee to the earth with my lance--But, be assured, your cruelty shall be fearfully avenged.--Come, Genvil, let us to our men; there is no farther use in abiding here." The fellow, who had expected a very different reception, stood staring after them for a few moments, then replaced his bloody trophy in the wallet, and rode back to those who sent him. "This comes of meddling with men's _amourettes_," said Genvil; "Sir Damian would needs brawl with Wenlock about his dealings with this miller's daughter, and you see they account him a favourer of their enterprise; it will be well if others do not take up the same opinion.--I wish we were rid of the trouble which such suspicions may bring upon us--ay, were it at the price of my best horse--I am like to lose him at any rate with the day's hard service, and I would it were the worst it is to cost us." The party returned, wearied and discomforted, to the castle of the Garde Doloureuse, and not without losing several of their number by the way, some straggling owing to the weariness of their horses, and others taking the opportunity of desertion, in order to join the bands of insurgents and plunderers, who had now gathered together in different quarters, and were augmented by recruits from the dissolute soldiery. Amelot, on his return to the castle, found that the state of his master was still very precarious, and that the Lady Eveline, though much exhausted, had not yet retired to rest, but was awaiting his return with impatience. He was introduced to her accordingly, and, with a heavy heart, mentioned the ineffectual event of his expedition. "Now the saints have pity upon us!" said the Lady Eveline; "for it seems as if a plague or pest attached to me, and extended itself to all who interest themselves in my welfare. From the moment they do so, their very virtues become snares to them; and what would, in every other case, recommend them to honour, is turned to destruction to the friends of Eveline Berenger."