Then springing up, he called to the guard to bring a light, and run for a leech. The shouts of the boy soon brought assistance. Three archers on guard hurried out of the gate, carrying a lighted cresset with them. By the lurid glare of the smoky light Dicky, who was kneeling down by his insensible friend, could see a dark stain marring the rich colours of the tunic, and a black pool under the right side of the prostrate boy. "He’s been hard stricken," said one of the men. "Here’s been foul play. But who’d hurt Master Lisle?" said another. "Now, none of your talking," said Dicky. "Get some water and cloths." At the same time he tore up his fine white linen tabard and laid the pieces over the small puncture from which the blood was welling in ominous streams. "I’ faith, the poor lad will bleed to death, an the leech comes not." "Here he comes," said the other archer, as a tall figure in a long fur gown came out of the wicket-gate, attended by several others, among whom the weather-beaten face of Sir John Trenchard was visible. "How’s this? how’s this?" he inquired peremptorily. "How came the lad out here?" No one answered. "Which of you men was on guard?" "Please your worship, ’twas my guard," said one of the men, knowing that Sir John Trenchard would be sure to find out, and thinking it best to make a virtue of necessity. "Then how came this about?" said the Seneschal sternly. "Marry, Sir John, ’tis more than I know. ’Tis parlous dark under the gateway, and belike he slipped out while my back was turned." "Get you to the guard-room. There’ll be more of this anon," said Sir John sharply. Then turning to the leech, he asked, "Is the boy dead?" "Nay, Sir John; ’tis a deep wound, but not mortal. There’s no artery severed, as thou mayest see by the darker colour of the blood. Had it been of a scarlet colour, ’twould have been useless for me to come. The flow is already stayed. We must get him to his bed, but that gently." While the archers were raising Ralph with great care, Sir John Trenchard closely questioned Dicky Cheke as to how he came to find Ralph, and elicited from the page how the mysterious warning had been given him by the little girl, and how Bowerman had been designated as cherishing vengeful designs on Ralph. "Where is Bowerman?" said Sir John Trenchard. "Nay, I have seen him not," answered Dicky Cheke. "Bid the pages be called to my apartment," said Sir John to one of the yeomen who attended on him. Then turning to Dicky, he said, "And who is this little wench?" "I know not, Sir John. I never saw her before to-day." "Hast thou any cause to suspect any one? Thou mayest speak freely; ’tis a case will have to be carefully inquired into."