"Knowest thou what these are, sir knight?" the youth inquired. "They are messages to my simple home; messages to my sweet mother; messages full of endearing terms and deep regrets; messages signed with mine own true and once honest name, Perkin Warbeck; messages which I dare never send, but write and read; and read again, gaining a sort of comfort from the double task. Why must I forswear my good name, sir knight? I know not. Why am I here? I know not--what shall become of me; I care not. I am but a shadow encompassed by flitting shades--a phantom in the midst of phantoms, moving in a fog of mystery. Of all, there is but the one thing potent--my love for Lady Anna. And yet--and yet, sir knight, I fear her. I must remain! Go! Leave me, I entreat of thee, for, by thus tarrying, thou art but fruitlessly imperiling thy life." Earnestly though Sir Richard tried, he was unable to shake the youth's determination to remain. With much of pity in his heart, the young knight then took leave of him, retraced his way back through the secret door and went below. Desiring to take advantage of Lady Anna's temporary retirement, he secured the final cutting of rope, stole again into the hall of the griffins' heads, and made everything ready for de Claverlok's escape and his own, which he meant should be brought off that night. It was lucky for him that he did so, for, upon that same afternoon, about sundown, there was heard a loud blaring of trumpets from the direction of the wood. Sir Richard at once hurried to the barbecan, from whence he had a view of Douglas and his company as they came marching up the slope. Among their number he noted a knight who was not wearing the Douglas colors. An oddly tall and lean figure of a man he was, encased from crown to toe in a suit of black armor. An ebon, horse-hair plume floated from his closed helmet, of the same somber hue were his mighty horse and trappings. Sir Richard gathered that he was not a prisoner, for he was riding free. "Marry, but he makes him a fine brave show!" the young knight mused to himself, as the Douglas's company started to defile across the lowered bridge. For three days together the air had been of a bitter coldness, and accordingly there followed a great scurrying up and down stairs, so that fires might be set to blazing in every chimney-place. The first inmate of the castle to be greeted by Douglas when he strode within the great hall was Sir Richard. He shook his hand most cordially, leading him to the canopied seat beneath the farther pillars, inviting him to bide at his right hand, and engaging him in conversation for quite an hour.