"Mr. Vavasour, I am not President of Council, or in any kind of judgeship, and therefore have no right to detain you prisoner in my house; but as the brother of the man you killed, it is my duty to hand you over to the rightful authorities, that you may stand your trial for the deed." I bowed my head. "I am advised there is no evidence against you but your own confession," continued the young earl. What a fool I had been to make it, was my first thought. "But that confession bore so much the seal of truth, and all you said has been so strongly confirmed by the avowal of the gipsy Boswell, and by more credible witnesses, that, considering what you have endured from us, and, to be frank with you, considering how little creditable to the house of Mulgrave it might be to publish what you have suffered at our hands, although you and I may not be friends, I incline to think we might be generous enemies." I had no answer ready to his surprising speech, which he had either taken some pains to prepare, or had had prepared for him. He went on-- "Will you give me your word, Mr. Vavasour, to take your trial, if I call upon you to do so?" "Assuredly, my lord," I replied. "Then you are at liberty to go whither you will. But worthy Master Wintringham desires much, to see you before you leave the castle." CHAPTER XXIII How good it was to be free! How beautiful the country was! Never before had I seen how graceful is the tracery of bare boughs against the sky, or what loveliness there is in a snowdrift, or what grandeur in a wide white prospect. To swing my legs, and to hear the crunch of the snow under my feet, were pure delight, and I turned off the causey again and again, to try the strength of the ice on the marsh, like an urchin just let out of school. In sheer wantonness, I threw a snowball at a solemn heron, who stood in a place where the ice had been broken, and laughed to see him start and flap sulkily away. I shouted greeting to every reed-cutter I passed within hail, and the men looked up from their work and stared as at some wandering madman. By the time I reached Belshaw I had sobered down a little, but sang lustily as I walked, and the noise brought John out in no small amazement. "What hallooing and what stir is this to-day?" he cried, as he came to meet me. "Why, man alive! what is the meaning of this? Here are we scribbling petitions to this and that great one of the earth, sending post-haste to Lincoln and London, and Lord knows where, and making such pitiful dole over the pining captive as never was, and behold him as merry as a cricket! Hast broken prison? Burned down Castle Mulgrave? The answer, quick, before I burst with curiosity." By this he had both my hands in his. "'Tis very simple; the young earl gave me my liberty." "And not too much for him to give thee for his earldom; though whether he be wise to pay his debt so quickly--well, that's no matter to us." "What is your news?" I asked.