“Not so, master, indeed—­”

“So now will we halt, and thou shalt to thy rest.”

“Why then, lord, let us to the Hollow—­it lieth scarce a mile through the brush yonder, and ’twas there I did appoint for Walkyn to meet with thee again—­so shall we sleep secure; moreover I have a feeling—­as it were one calling us thither, a wondrous strange feeling, master!  Mayhap we shall come by news of Walkyn there—­”

“’Tis well bethought, Roger.  Come thy ways.”

Forthwith turned they from the forest-road, and forcing their way through a leafy tangle, presently came out into a ride, or narrow glade; but they had gone only a very little distance when they espied the red glow of a fire within a thicket hard by, and therewith the sound of voices reached them: 

“Three great bags, I tell thee!” cried one voice, high and querulous, “three great, fair and goodly bags full crammed of sweet gold pieces!  All my lord Duke’s revenue of Winisfarne and the villages adjacent thereunto!  Taxes, see ye, my lord Duke’s taxes—­and all stolen, reft, and ravished from me, Guido, Steward and Bailiff of the northern Marches, by clapper-claws and raveners lewd and damned!  Woe’s me for my lord’s good money-bags!”

“O, content thee!” spake another voice, sleepy and full-fed, “for, an these monies were the Duke’s they were not thine, and if they were not thine thou wert not robbed, and, since thou wert not robbed, wherefore groan and glower ye on the moon?  Moreover, thou hast yet certain monies thou didst—­collect—­from yon blind fellow, the which remindeth me I have not yet my share.  So pray thee now disburse, good steward.”

Hereupon, ere Beltane could stay him, Roger slipped, soft-treading, into the undergrowth; upon whose vanishing the air grew very suddenly full of shouts and cries, of scuffling sounds and woeful pleadings; and striding forward, Beltane beheld two men that crouched on bended knees, while Roger, fierce and threatening, stood betwixt, a hairy hand upon the throat of each.  Now beholding Beltane, they (these gasping rogues) incontinent beset him with whimpering entreaties, beseeching of him their lives.  Ragged knaves they seemed, and in woeful plight—­the one a lank fellow and saturnine, with long, down-trending, hungry nose; the other a little man, plump and buxom, whose round eyes blinked woefully in his round and rosy face as he bent ’neath Roger’s heavy hand.  Yet spake he to Beltane in soft and soothing accents, on this wise: 

“Resplendent sir, behold this thy most officious wight who doth my tender throat with hurtful hand encompass—­doubtless to some wise and gracious end an he doth squeeze me thus at thy command.  Yet, noble sir, humbly would I woo of thee the mercy of a little more air, lest this right noble youth do choke me quite!”

But hereupon the lank fellow cried out, bold and querulous: 

“Take ye heed, for whoso dareth lay hand on me, toucheth the person of Duke Ivo’s puissant self!”