He saw a tall figure, strong and well made, with a hood over its head, such as were worn by the courtiers of ages long gone by, and which Ralph had seen depicted in tapestry and illuminations of King Edward the Third’s time. A tight-fitting tunic strapped at the waist by a belt, from which gleamed the hilt of a dagger, and the head of a small axe, showed he was both active and well-armed. But Ralph could see nothing of the man’s face, or make out whether his clothes were of those of gentle birth or of the common stuff worn by the country men and labourers. "Well, my master, and how long may it please you to stay here, and what may be your business?" Ralph did not like the tone of bantering superiority the other assumed; he answered:-- "Marry, good fellow, what is that to thee? An thou canst tell me where I am, and whither to go to St Catherine’s down, that is all I want of thee." "So thou wouldest go to St Catherine’s down, wouldest thou? And what may be your business there?" "Thou art parlous curious, good knave," said Ralph haughtily. "I pray you ask me no questions, but tell me what I wish to know." "Body o’ me, this is a fine springald," said the other. "But before I tell thee what thou wouldest know, thou must tell me what I would know." "And what is that?" "What is thy business at this hour from the Captain of the Wight with the hermit of St Catherine’s?" "That shalt thou never know!" cried Ralph hotly. "Then thou mayest grope here in the darkness until thy carcase becometh a prey to the sea-mews, or a feast for the crabs on yonder beach." "Base churl! thou deservedst chastisement for thine insolence!" cried Ralph, whose temper was becoming provoked. "But I will e’en do without thy niggard help." And Ralph got off his horse, and prepared to grope his way to where the smell of smoke still met his nostrils. "Nay, Sir Page, thou goest not thus," said the man, stepping in front of him, and at the same time putting his finger to his mouth he gave a prolonged whistle like the shrill scream of a sea-bird. Ralph laid his hand on his sword, seeing there was evidently mischief intended. But before he could draw it, his wrist was held as in a vice, and in a second his other arm was grasped, and with a quick trip of the foot, he found himself prostrate on the grass, the man kneeling on him, and holding him immovable. "Struggle not, young master, or thou wilt suffer. Thou art powerless to do aught, so better lie still." But Ralph was furious. With the rage of mortified pride--for he had never been mastered before--he struggled, kicked, and writhed, and even tried to bite the hands that held him with a grasp of iron. He had never felt such power in human hands before.