Surely, surely, he said to himself, the king’s heralds were persons in authority, and would not see him killed by the cruel Hugo, even if he had taken and hidden the heathenish old sword. Did he not mean to give it back, and had he not done it because of the very law they were coming to proclaim? Surely they would help him in some way! And so the afternoon wore wearily on. Count Hugo came once or twice to see that the man-at-arms had properly beaten him, and even meditated putting him to some torture to make him disclose at once the whereabouts of the sword. But he scarcely dared, as he feared an uprising of the people of the inn, who, he saw, were very fond of Geoffrey; so he contented himself with cruelly striking the lad once or twice, and determining to deal summarily with him when he should take him away from Dives. For at that time powerful noblemen did very much as they pleased. The good King Louis had been away fighting in the Holy Land for so long that affairs in France had for the most part taken care of themselves; and though since his return the king was striving hard to correct many abuses, there were many things yet to be looked after. So Count Hugo thought he should have no trouble in carrying Geoffrey away as his private prisoner because of the taking of his sword. After the count’s last visit, when he had informed Geoffrey of some of the punishments he meant to visit upon him when he got him off in his own castle, the poor boy began really to despair! It was growing late, and the sun was almost to its setting, and still not a sound to tell of any unusual arrival in Dives. The little boy lay back, and shut his eyes tight, trying to forget his miseries, and the dreadful things ahead of him; but try as he might, now and then a big tear would force itself through his closed lids, and trickle down his poor little blood-stained cheeks. And so another hour wore on, Geoffrey growing all the while more despairing and miserable in his gloomy prospects. But at last, just as he had given up all hope of the heralds, and concluded that the plight he had got himself into had been all useless after all,—he suddenly started up, and clutching the sleeve of the man-at-arms, exclaimed, “Hark! what is that?” “Hush, hush, little one! ’tis nothing,” said the man, who was a stupid fellow, half dozing, and merely thought the lad crazed by his fright. “Nay!” cried Geoffrey, “but listen!” Here the guard somewhat pricked up his ears. “By my faith!” he answered, “I believe ’tis a blare of trumpets! Some noble must be coming to Dives!”