"In some sort, a new charge, my lord," replied the clerk of the court; "he was arrested last night, the moment he had left this court, on the complaint of Ralph Brito, next of kin to the deceased, for the murder of Ralph Wetheral, the seneschal of Waltheofstow, at the time and in the place, which your lordship wots of, having heard all about it, in the case decided yesterday _de nativo habendo_!" "Now, by my halidom!" said Glanville, the fire flashing to his dark eyes, "this is wonderful insolence and _outrecuidance_ on the part of Master Ralph Brito, who is himself, or should be, under arrest for perjury----" "So, please you, he hath entered bail for his appearance, and is discharged of custody." "Who is his bondsman, and in what bail is he held?" "So please you, in a hundred marks of silver. Sir Foulke d'Oilly is his bondsman." "The bail is well enough; the bondsman is not sufficient. Let the proper officer attach the body of Ralph Brito. Upon my life! he has the impudence to brave us here, in court." "Who? I not sufficient," cried Sir Foulke d'Oilly, fiercely, rising to his feet, as if to defy the court. "I not sufficient for a paltry bail of a hundred marks of silver? I would have you to know, Sir Ranulf----" "And I would have you to know, sir," thundered the high justiciary, "that this is 'the King's court,' in the precincts of which you have dared to make your voice be heard; and that I, humble as I am, stand here in _loco regis_, and will be treated with the reverence due to my master. For the rest, I will speak with you anon, when I shall have dealt with this case now before me, which seems one of shameful persecution and oppression." Sir Foulke d'Oilly had remained on his feet during the time the justiciary was speaking; and now, turning his eye to his barons and the knights of his train, who took the cue, and rose silently, he began to move toward the door. "Ha! is it so? Close up, halberdiers; guard the doors! Pursuivants, do your duty. Sheriff of Lancaster, have you a guard at hand to protect the court?" "Surely, my lord," replied Sir Yvo de Taillebois. "Without, there! pass the word to the proper officer, that he turn out the guard." In a moment, the call of the bugles of the archery was heard, and was shortly succeeded by the heavy, ordered march of infantry, closing up to the doors, while the cavalry-trumpets rang through the narrow streets of the old city, and the clash of mail-coats and the tramp of chargers told that the men-at-arms were falling in, in great numbers.