The dinner finished, and Clerivault left to care for his master, who had fallen fast asleep with his head on the table, Brion went with his guests into the open air, where, strolling in the Courtyard, they came upon Nol porter at friendly trials of strength with Raleigh’s servant, one Nicholas Wright, a bulky Yorkshireman. And them they provoked to a wrestling bout on the sward, in which neither could best the other; after which the Sheriff, in his turn, fell asleep on a bench and snored in the sun. Then did this Mr Raleigh, with a very winning way he had, inviting and giving confidence in one, slip his arm under the young man’s, and ask him to come with him a little walk towards the moors, for that he had something of moment for his private ear. And Brion, foreseeing, perhaps, what was to follow, and naturally pleased, as a boy, over the condescension of so superlative a gallant, very willingly consented. ‘That is a rare fellow of thine, the patriot cup-bearer,’ said the soldier, as, leaving the bridge, they walked on together. ‘It warmed my heart to hear him.’ Brion smiled. ‘It was one Harlequin Clerivault, a creature as fantastic as his name, but with a heart of gold. You touched him on the quick, Sir. To start his brain on the subject of England is like laying open an emmet heap with your foot. It is a house gone wild at a blow.’ ‘Well, I love him for it. Whence came the oddity?’ ‘I know not; but the first of him for us was’--he paused, remembering his bond, and his cheek reddened. ‘Nay,’ said the other, quietly observant, ‘no need for you to answer. No need, mayhap, in the double sense, chancing I know already.’ ‘You know?’ ‘Why, what a tone? Think you it is no part of the duties of my friend the Sheriff to acquire some knowledge of his neighbours’ antecedents? Well, if this man of yours ought his peril to the monks he favoured, and his neck to your Uncle, that was long days ago, and certes in these he plays the part, with you, of a good Churchman. But why, lad, does your kinsman, the ex-Judge, never worship with his nephew in St Andrew’s Church in Ashburton?’ ‘Because,’ began Brion--and stuck. He felt stupefied. This revelation of a sort of furtive vehmgericht sitting on their conduct, the while they had been living untroubled and unsuspecting, took him like a blow. But Raleigh laughed good-humouredly:-- ‘Judge me for no inquisitor: only, remembering things, and setting this with that--you have never heard, mayhap, what put him out of favour with the Court?’ ‘I heed no gossips, Sir,’ said the boy proudly; and then, remembering who had been his informant, blushed again, in grief at having so belied his innocent dear.