Richard felt for his sheath and loosened Trenchefer; then whispered to a shock-pated "villain," whose wrists were bound, and the cord in Herbert's keeping:--
"Now, Giles of the Mill, serve us true in this; for as I hope in heaven, your hands shall be stricken off, and the stumps plunged in hot sulphur, if you play false!"
"Never fear, lord," answered the fellow. "Raoul hung my eldest son for fishing in his stream after mid-Lent; never fear his brother will fail to let down the ladder."
Richard rose to his feet very slowly. It was so dark under the trees that the keenest eye saw only blackness. On the western hill-crest, where the clouds gave way, the last bars of pale light still hung, but dimming each moment.
"_Nox ruit interea, et montes umbrantur_," repeated Sebastian, softly, at Longsword's elbow.
"_Ai_, father," muttered the Norman, turning, "why did you not remain in the glen by the horses? We will call you, if any need shriving."
"And shall not the shepherd go with the sheep?" said Sebastian, solemnly. "Ah! dear son, if God bless you this night, slay the guilty, but spare the innocent!"
"Time enough," protested Richard, "to consider, when we see the inside of that keep. By St. Michael, it will be no jaunty hawking!"
Sebastian laid his great, iron-capped mace upon his shoulder. "This weapon I bear," said he, "that I may not live by the sword, and so by the sword perish."
"Now, my men!" commanded Richard, his voice still very low; and silently the long line of dark figures rose from the fern brake. As they rose, a distant bell pealed out many miles away, the notes stealing in among the trees like echoes from an untrodden world.
"They toll some one who has died in Bredon," whispered Bertrand, the squire. "Let us pray," said Richard. And all the Christians knelt. The Saracens stood dumbly, but perhaps said their word to "Allah,"--for who among them was fated to see another morning?
So Richard prayed--a wild, unholy prayer, as became his unholy frame of mind; and he ended, "Thus I confide myself to the stout heart Thou hast given me, and to my good sword, and my good right arm; but last of all to Thee!" And one may hope the Most High rejoiced that He was not utterly forgotten.