Chapter 2 - Page 2

"Sirrah," said Sir Daniel, "your name?"

"An't please your worship," replied the man, "my name is Condall -
Condall of Shoreby, at your good worship's pleasure."

"I have heard you ill reported on," returned the knight. "Ye deal
in treason, rogue; ye trudge the country leasing; y' are heavily
suspicioned of the death of severals. How, fellow, are ye so bold?
But I will bring you down."

"Right honourable and my reverend lord," the man cried, "here is
some hodge-podge, saving your good presence. I am but a poor
private man, and have hurt none."

"The under-sheriff did report of you most vilely," said the knight.
"'Seize me,' saith he, 'that Tyndal of Shoreby.'"

"Condall, my good lord; Condall is my poor name," said the
unfortunate.

"Condall or Tyndal, it is all one," replied Sir Daniel, coolly.
"For, by my sooth, y' are here and I do mightily suspect your
honesty. If ye would save your neck, write me swiftly an
obligation for twenty pound."

"For twenty pound, my good lord!" cried Condall. "Here is
midsummer madness! My whole estate amounteth not to seventy
shillings."

"Condall or Tyndal," returned Sir Daniel, grinning, "I will run my
peril of that loss. Write me down twenty, and when I have
recovered all I may, I will be good lord to you, and pardon you the
rest."

"Alas! my good lord, it may not be; I have no skill to write," said
Condall.

"Well-a-day!" returned the knight. "Here, then, is no remedy. Yet
I would fain have spared you, Tyndal, had my conscience suffered.
Selden, take me this old shrew softly to the nearest elm, and hang
me him tenderly by the neck, where I may see him at my riding.
Fare ye well, good Master Condall, dear Master Tyndal; y' are post-
haste for Paradise; fare ye then well!"

"Nay, my right pleasant lord," replied Condall, forcing an
obsequious smile, "an ye be so masterful, as doth right well become
you, I will even, with all my poor skill, do your good bidding."

"Friend," quoth Sir Daniel, "ye will now write two score. Go to!
y' are too cunning for a livelihood of seventy shillings. Selden,
see him write me this in good form, and have it duly witnessed."

And Sir Daniel, who was a very merry knight, none merrier in
England, took a drink of his mulled ale, and lay back, smiling.

Meanwhile, the boy upon the floor began to stir, and presently sat
up and looked about him with a scare.

"Hither," said Sir Daniel; and as the other rose at his command and
came slowly towards him, he leaned back and laughed outright. "By
the rood!" he cried, "a sturdy boy!"

The lad flushed crimson with anger, and darted a look of hate out
of his dark eyes. Now that he was on his legs, it was more