So intent were the twenty lads upon the scene, that they did not notice how the sun went down amidst rising clouds, how the wind began to sigh through the forest; darkness was gathering over the spectators and combatants, who had now fought many rounds, lasting nearly an hour, when at last, to the great joy of many present, Grabber, at the conclusion of a round, in which he had exhausted all his strength, got a knock-down blow, and was unable to “come up to time,” so amidst deafening cheers, Cuthbert was hailed as the victor. He advanced to Grabber who was supported on the knee of his second. “Give me your hand, Nicholas, and let us forgive and forget. I hope you are not much hurt.” Grabber sullenly refused. “That shows a bad heart; a fellow should never bear malice for a fair thrashing, one can only do his best after all,” said Gregory. And the majority shared his opinion. “We must make haste out of the woods, or we shall lose our way and be here all night.” Three or four boys remained with Grabber, for he was not without his sympathizers,--we are sorry to say there are black sheep even in the best schools,--and these would not leave the spot with the rest, but said they could find their own way home. The others struck boldly towards the west, which was easily distinguished, owing to the reddened and angry clouds, which showed where the monarch of the day had gone down. But soon these also disappeared, and the road was not yet attained; darkness fell upon the scene, and the lads who were with Cuthbert wandered about lost, utterly lost, until a distant light gladdened their eager sight, and with a joyous cry they bent their course towards it. In a few minutes they emerged from the woods on the high-road from London, where a well-known inn, “The Cross Keys,” hung out a lamp as a guide to travellers. They all knew their way now, and would fain have started home at once, only Cuthbert was faint after his late exertions, and a cup of “Malmsey” seemed the right thing. “You had better let him have a good wash; cold water will revive him, and remove the blood from his face too,” said the landlord, who saw the lad had been fighting, and a fight was too common a thing, we are sorry to say, to excite any further comment or enquiries, on his part. So they adjourned to the pump, where, with the help of a rough towel, Cuthbert soon made himself presentable, although he still bore very evident traces of the conflict. This necessary task accomplished, the boys entered the inn, ordinarily a forbidden place to them, and the landlord brought a cup of wine for Cuthbert. But while they were there a body of armed men entered the house. They wore the uniform of the King’s guard: there was no regular army in those days, every man was a soldier in time of need, but there was a small body of men kept about the King’s person, who were sent from time to time on special services, and were called the King’s “beef-eaters.” And these were some of them.