Nicholas was herald, bedellus, or chief crier, to the lord of the manor, his office being to make proclamations at the court and the cross, where the use of his capacious lungs was oft in request. He was hangman, too, upon occasion, being never so well pleased as when employed in the due chastisement of his master's lieges. He was, moreover, a man of infinite humour, generally consoling his dear unfortunates under their visitations by some coarse and galling jest. "Now, Adam of Hunersfield, art thou at thy prayers already?--I'll shrive thee quick. Master, shall I give the rogues any victuals? They'll not keep else till hanging time;--best finish now--needless to waste provender." "Give them the prison allowance. But, hark thee, no stripes, Nicholas," said the chief, well aware of his flagellant propensities. "Eh!" replied he; "but black cake and dried beans don't mix well i' the stomach without riddling." "Peace, sirrah!" replied the chieftain with a frown. Nicholas, though a licensed jester and in especial favour, knew there was a boundary beyond which he durst not pass; he became silent, therefore, at this command. The lamentations of the unwary hostages were loud but unavailing. Nicholas prepared his manacles, and was leading them from the chamber, when the page whispered in his master's ear. "Stop," cried the Thane: "know ye aught of the boy who was a-watching yesternight?" "We know nothing of the lad, as we hope for deliverance," said the terrified rustics. "Bring in the woman!" The command was followed by the entrance of Cicely. Leaning on her crutch, she bent lowly before the chief. "Hast thou any suit or accusation to prefer against these men, as touching thy boy?" "Oh, my lord!" said the dame, weeping, "I never aforetime knew him missing; and he has slept i' the Killer Dane, where the great battle was fought below the castle. He has watched i' the 'Thrutch,' where the black dog haunts from sunset till cock-crow. He has leapt over the fairies' ring and run through the old house at Gozlewood, and no harm has befallen him; but he is now ta'en from me,--cast out, maybe, into some noisome pit. The timbers and stones are leapt on to the hill again, but my boy is not there!" She wept and wrung her withered hands. "Hast thou any witness against these men?" "Oh! my lord, they bribed me with their gifts that I should suffer the boy to watch; and I am poor, and I thought he wore a charmed life, and the little hoard would be a comfort and a stay in my old age." "Thou hast done wickedly in this," said the lord. "Howbeit, I will keep them in the stocks; peradventure it may quicken the wits of their outdoor friends to find out the mover of these scurvy pranks. The post and timbers would not go up hill unless some knave had holpen to lift them."