“Ye shall not harm him, unless ye trample under foot the sign of your redemption.” “Who forbids?” said Grimbeard. “I, the representative by birth of your ancestral leaders, and one who might now claim the allegiance you have paid to my fathers for generations. But I rest not on that,” and here he pleaded so eloquently in the name of Christ, that even Grimbeard was moved; he could not resist a certain ascendency which Martin was gaining over him. “Let them go, all of them. Blindfold them and lead them out in the road. Only they must swear not to come into our haunts again, either with hawk and hound or with deadlier weapons. “There! I hope it may be put to my account in purgatory, my Martin. You are spoiling a good outlaw. Have your way, only this gay popinjay of a knight must stay until his ransom be paid. We can’t afford to lose that. But no harm shall befall him. Beside, we may want him as hostage in case this morning’s work bring a hornets’ nest about our ears.” “Ralph, you are safe. Do you remember me?” said Martin. “I remember a young fellow much like thee at Oxford, who defended my poor pate against the _boves boreales_, as now from _latrones austroles_. Verily, thou art born to be a shield to addle-pated Ralph. But art thou indeed a grey friar?” “Yes, thank God.” “And that was how it was we lost you, and wondered you never came near us again to share the fun. Father Adam had won you. Well, it is a good fellow lost to the world.” “And gained to God, I hope.” “I know nought of that. Only tell me, my Martin, what life am I to lead here?” “Only give your parole and you will be free within the limits of the camp. I know their customs, being born amongst them.” “Oh, wert thou! I wish thee joy of the honour. How, then, didst thou get to Oxford?” “It is a long tale; another day I will tell thee. Now, wilt thou come with me, and give thy word to Grimbeard not to attempt to escape till thy messenger returns?” It was done, and Ralph and Martin strolled around the camp in conversation that entire evening. Martin now learned that the death of an elder brother had recalled his former acquaintance from Oxford to figure as the heir apparent of Herst de Monceux: hence the occasion of their meeting under such different auspices. Chapter 19: The Preaching Friar.