The new arrival was a man some few years older than the fugitive. He was clad in a rough leather suit, frayed at elbows and knees, and to which shavings and feathers still clung--a silent witness to his trade of fletcher. "'Tis a sorry pass, Master Revyngton. How came it about?" "Ay, that I will say right willingly; but first tell me--how knowest thou that I am here?" "Easily said! Dick Ford told me that thou wert a fugitive in his house, and asked me to use my scatterbrain wits to find a way to smuggle thee out of the city. That being so, 'twere best I saw thee, and to that purpose I am here. But, again, how came it to pass?" "Faith! I can scarce say. 'Twas in the meads, yestereven. Young Stephen Scarsdale and Reginald, his brother, were on this side of the stream, I on the nether bank, with Wulf, my favourite hound. 'Ho there!' cried Stephen. 'What meanst thou by trespassing on the ground of my Lord Bishop?' 'I do not trespass,' I replied. 'The Mead hath ever been free to the men of this city, and no one hath yet said me nay.' 'I'll warrant thou art after my Lord Bishop's trout. By the rood, I'll send a bolt through the head of thy lurcher.' 'Thy aim must be more sure than when I beat thee at the butts,' I replied, little thinking but that he spoke in jest, but in answer he levelled his crossbow, and ere I was aware of it poor Wulf was lying transfixed on the ground." "Then I was seized by a thousand devils, and sprang across the narrow plank bridge to hurl the slayer of my hound into the river, but Stephen, whipping out his blade, bade me do likewise. In less time than it takes to tell our swords crossed, though, mark ye, I meant not to harm him; yet, like a fool, he ran in upon my blade, and 'twas all over in an instant." "And then?" "The younger Scarsdale, who is a worthy gentleman compared with his witless brother, tried to stop me as I fled. There was no help for it, so he, too, went down, though I trow he is not much hurt. Hast heard aught of Stephen?" "Naught save that he is as dead as a door-nail. But, Master Revyngton, 'tis, as I said, a sorry pass. What wilt thou do?" "Do? Give myself into the hands of the law. What else wouldst thou have me do?" "Anything but that. Consider! Thou art young and full of life. Why shouldst thou grace a halter if it can be avoided, for, mark well, the Scarsdales are a powerful family, and moreover Stephen was of the Bishop's household. How thinkst thou to make good thy case before thy peers when the weight of title and position is set against thee? Be sober, young master, and think on't." "Ay, 'tis hard to die thus." "No need to die at all--at any rate, just yet. Flee the country. France or the States of the Rhine ever offer an attraction for a roving blade, and peradventure in a few years the affair will have blown over." "But how can I escape?" "There thou hast me. Where is Dick Ford?" "Gone to gather tidings. He will be here anon."