As he rode onward beside his captor-companion, he gave frequent verbal expression to the questions perplexing him, but without exception de Claverlok's replies were the embodiment of remoteness. He was open, however, in his references to the perils that surely awaited Sir Richard inside the walls of Yewe. His warnings were poured into unheeding ears, as the thought uppermost in Sir Richard's mind was to reach there as quickly as his horse could accomplish the journey. The veteran warrior had been revolving in his mind the subject of his oath of secrecy made to Tyrrell, and whether it involved the keeping of the contents of Henry's warrant from its bearer. He concluded finally to make use of every other means that came to hand to keep his young friend, for whom he was already entertaining a sentiment of real affection, from delivering the parchment to Douglas. Failing of success, he would, as a last resort, expose the duplicity of the King by laying bare the purport of the document. "I have your word, de Claverlok," Sir Richard interrupted the warrior's thoughts, "that you are well acquainted with the country hereabouts?" "Yea--that I am, Sir Dick." "Tell me then," the young knight inquired, "how many leagues is it from here to Yewe?" "Marry, and is it true you do not know, ... eh?" returned the grizzled knight, shooting a shrewd interrogative glance in the direction of his companion. "Not I. An I had, my friend, I had not besought your information," said Sir Richard. "Aye--eh! Most truly said. Well," de Claverlok replied, hesitating while he made a count upon his fingers, "not above two days' journey, I should say," he glibly misled his companion. "So far as that? Well, by my faith! I wish you had said not above two hours," remarked Sir Richard regretfully. "But how see you, my friend," he thereupon added, pointing his finger directly ahead of them down the road; "an I mistake me not, in yonder valley beside the fork of the road doth set an inn?" "Aye--that it is. The good Stag and Hounds; right well do I know its jovial keeper. There, Sir Dick, may we dine, drink our fill, and while away a pleasant hour in reading out of your Tales of--of----" "Canterbury, do you mean?" suggested Sir Richard. "Canterbury--aye, of a truth, that's it, my young friend. Beshrew me an I have not the devil's own time with remembering names, ... eh! You have this Canterbury business within your saddle-pouch, I heard you say. I would hear you read somewhat out of it, ... eh!" "This fondness of yours for written tales is certes something of a recent acquirement," laughed Sir Richard. "Only this morning, an I remember me aright, did you scoff at my keeping it beside me; yea--and did heap scathing ridicule upon the head of the scholar, Erasmus, when I spoke of my admiration for him."