"This fanciful plan of our dreamy friend of the flying inn," he pursued when they had seated themselves, "to keep the Earl of Warwick in the grip of Friar Diomed's decoction is both impracticable and dangerous. 'Twould be a good three days ere he could be brought to our main stronghold in the mountains." So saying, he took from his wallet the phial that Tyrrell had entrusted to his keeping and emptied its sparkling contents upon the ground. "I would, my lord," said de Claverlok soberly, "that I could pour a phial of it within my tent--eh! Mayhap 'twould put the blessed ants to sleep, and keep them from crawling beneath my gorget ... eh!" Bishop Kennedy acknowledged the grizzled knight's sally with a mere suspicion of a smile. "Lay our commands upon the Renegade Duke," he pursued, "that he shall permit the prisoner, for as such we must for the present regard him, to rest till such time as he may naturally awaken from his stupor. I desire, de Claverlok, that thou shalt say but little to the duke of the haps of this night. By all means, keep from his knowledge the identity of the young earl. My reasons for this are most urgent, I would have thee to know. Meanwhile, keep a close eye to the prisoner thyself. We may deem it expedient later to give him wholly into thy charge. And now, good sir, to thy cot--and may pleasing visions await thee there." When de Claverlok issued from Lord Kennedy's tent he glanced upward toward the knoll whereupon the folds of the purple and black pavilion were billowing gracefully in the crisp morning air. Betaking himself up the slope, he waited there till the unconscious Sir Richard had been comfortably disposed beneath its silken roof, the same, by the way, which had been intended as a covering for the dead prince. Then, when he had done with appointing and setting the guard, the grizzled warrior made in the direction of the renegade duke's tent for the purpose of imparting to him Lord Kennedy's instructions. CHAPTER VII OF THE AWAKENING OF SIR RICHARD