"Have a care, de Claverlok, the guards are looking," whispered the young knight warningly. "And not a word with you, I say, till I've delivered the King's paper. Think you I have foughten my way here for naught? No inkling have I of the purpose of your company in stealing the parchment and in their attempt to hinder me from reaching here. But the copy goes to Lord Douglas as fast as----" "Cannot you but wait an hour, ... eh? Hell and furies! Never can I forgive me my stupidity in allowing you to come within this house of death," interrupted de Claverlok. "There's death in that paper, I say--death!" "Death; what mean you?" "Aye, death! Death to thyself, an thou must hear the truth. 'Tis a warrant for your own execution, Sir Dick." "De Claverlok, you lie in your bewhiskered throat," returned Sir Richard in a menacing undertone. "Never before hath man said that word to me and lived," declared the grizzled warrior gloomily. "But I forgive you, Sir Dick. Aye, I forgive you. An you'll but consent to wait an hour, I'll hear you asking my forgiveness. You can do it, my boy,--you can wait. Say to Douglas that thou art an emissary of Henry, who hath but journeyed here to yield to him thy sovereign's good wishes. Tell him that I am your companion and squire. Mayhap 'twill answer for my present safety." "First dive within the moat and fetch me your dripping lance. 'Twould be a most befitting badge of your loyalty to me to lay before him, de Claverlok." "You would be at this moment in a far better case," observed the grizzled warrior bitterly, "an it had taken you in the small of the back, where I intended it should land. You know damned well 'twas hurled butt foremost, ... eh? By the Rood, boy, answer me." Sir Richard hesitated; then, measuring his companion's earnest look, nodded in the affirmative. "I'll do it," said he, "though a plague take me, an I think you deserve it. But whereof be the good, an your act were seen from barbacan or shot-hole?" "I'll take my solemn oath 'twas driven at the door," observed de Claverlok, smiling in open gratification at having achieved his point. "You'll delay the blessed paper, too, ... eh?" "Nay--that I dare not do," whispered Sir Richard decisively. "Even now unmeasured harm may have resulted from my egregious blunder in permitting the original to be stolen. An ill messenger have I been, de Claverlok--an ill messenger." "You'll persist in delivering the paper, ... eh?" "Upon my soul. Yea." By now they had reached to the foot of a broad flight of steps leading to a gallery that completely girdled the hall. Already the pages were strung halfway up the stairway, awaiting for the two men to follow. "Await me here, de Claverlok," added Sir Richard in a tone indicating his determination to finish his errand as he started up the stairs.