There was something in all this that made Richard vaguely uneasy. After the recent attack upon the Prince, he suspected all that he did not fully understand; and though in the guarded precincts of the Hospital he had once dismissed his anxiety, it returned upon him in redoubled force. He thought of Nick Dustifoot, but that worthy was of a uniform tint of whitey brown, skin, hair and all; and Richard had assured himself that the strange patient had black hair and a brown skin, but that was all that he could guess at. The exorcism would, however, be an effectual means of disclosing the “myster wight’s” person, and it sometimes included measures so strong, that few pretences could hold out against them. But it was too serious and complicated a ceremony to be got up at short notice; and when they met in the Refectory for supper, Raynald told Richard that the Grand Master intended to make a personal inspection next day, before deciding on using his spiritual weapons. “And then!” cried John of Dunster, dancing round, “you will let me be there! Pray, good Father, let me be there! Oh, I hope there will be a rare smell of brimstone, and the foul fiend will come out with huge claws, and a forked tail. I don’t care to see him if he only comes out like a black crow; I can see crows enough in the trees at Dunster.” “Peace, John; this is no place for idle talk,” said Richard gravely. “Stand aside, here comes the Prince.” The Prince had spent a fatiguing day over the terms of the ten years, ten months, ten weeks, ten days, ten hours, and ten minutes’ truce with the Emir of Joppa; he ate little, and after the meal, took Richard’s arm, and craved leave from the Grand Master to seek the fresh air beneath the cedar tree. And when there, he could not endure the return to the closeness of his own apartment, but declared his intention of sleeping in the pavilion. He dismissed his attendants, saying he needed no one but Richard, who, since his illness, had always slept upon cushions at his feet. Where was Richard? He presently appeared, carrying on one arm a mantle, and over the other shoulder the Prince’s immense two-handled sword; while his own sword was in his belt. Leonillo followed him. “How now!” said Edward, “are we to have a joust? Dost look for phantom Saracens out of yonder fountain, such as my Doña tells me rise out of the fair wells in Castille, wring their hands and pray for baptism?” “You said your hand should keep your head, my Lord,” said Richard; “this is but a lone place.”