His companion of the morning, now no longer taciturn, was riding well to the front with Erasmus, whom he had evidently persuaded to remain with the company. In sullen silence at his left rode the Renegade Duke. Faithful de Claverlok kept within touch of Sir Richard's hand to his right. When he was not engaging the bluff old warrior in conversation, the young knight would yield himself to the ineffable delights of conjuring up radiant visions of the maiden of the piece of saffron velvet, whilst all of the time he was building every manner of chimerical plan for effecting her delivery from the hands of the keeper of the Red Tavern. Full often his fingers would seek and caress the soft nap of the cutting of cloth. He had need of constant assurance that the entire mysterious happening had not been of the ephemeral fabric of an unusual dream. Thinking thus of the unknown maiden to whom he had pledged his knightly sword, led him naturally to the contemplation of his own freedom, and the stratagem through which he was hopeful of achieving it. That his avowed enemy, the Duke, was, at the proper moment, ready to lend himself to his device, Sir Richard was almost certain. His scheme involved the arrangement of a secret duel, in which he trusted in his strength of arm to vanquish his enemy and thereafter make his escape. But a most substantial and incorruptible barrier offered in the bulky person of the grizzled knight. As many as a score of times had de Claverlok been loudly hailed from the vanguard of the line. But without exception he had laughingly rejoined that he was engaged in keeping companionship with the honored guest of the company, remaining deaf to the young knight's fervent assurances that he must consider himself quite free to ride ahead, if he so desired. "Aye," he would invariably reply, "I know well that thou art growing tired of my prattle, ... eh? I wish that it were not so, sir knight, for I must do my devoir by thy side till the trumpet sounds a halt for the night." Once Sir Richard put to him point blank the question of why and how long he was to be thus forcibly detained. "Before the sun drops beneath the hills in the evening of to-morrow," de Claverlok replied, "thou shalt know all. Would that I were free to tell thee the story now, Sir Richard," he added with an honest candor, "but my lips are sealed with an oath most sacred, ... eh! Thou wouldst not expect me to break my knightly vow, I know," upon which he looked significantly across at the Renegade Duke, but that immaculate dandy was busily engaged in polishing his nails against the flowing skirts of his scarlet _sclaveyn_, and remained wholly unconscious of the implied warning.