“What is the news of King Richard?” the knight said.  “I have heard that he was lost on the voyage homeward.”

“It is not so,” Blondel said.  “He landed safely on the coast, and was journeying north with a view of joining his sister at the court of Saxony, when he was foully seized and imprisoned by the Archduke John.”

“That were gross shame indeed,” the knight said, “and black treachery on the part of Duke John.  And where is the noble king imprisoned?”

“That,” said Blondel, “no man knows.  On my journey hither I have gathered that the emperor claimed him from the hand of the archduke, and that he is imprisoned in one of the royal fortresses, but which I know not.  And indeed, sir knight, since you are well disposed toward him, I may tell you that the purport of my journey is to discover if I can the place of his confinement.  He was a kind and noble master, and however long my search may be, I will yet obtain news of him.”

The knight warmly applauded the troubadour’s resolution, and was turning to lead him into his abode, when his eye fell upon Cuthbert.

“Methinks I know the face of your attendant as well as your own; though where I can have seen him I know not.  Was he with you in the Holy Land?”

“Yes,” Blondel said, “the youth was also there; and doubtless you may have noticed him, for he is indeed of distinguished and of good family.”

“Then let him share our repast,” the knight said, “if it seems good to you.  In these woods there is no rank, and I myself have long dropped my knightly title, and shall not reassume it until I can pay off my score to the Baron of Rotherheim, and take my place again in my castle.”

The minstrel and Cuthbert were soon seated at the table with the knight and one or two of his principal companions.  A huge venison pasty formed the staple of the repast, but hares and other small game were also upon the table.  Nor was the generous wine of the country wanting.

The knight had several times glanced at Cuthbert, and at last exclaimed, “I have it now.  This is no attendant, sir minstrel, but that valiant young knight who so often rode near King Richard in battle.  He is, as I guess, your companion in this quest; is it not so?”

“It is,” Cuthbert replied frankly.  “I am, like yourself, a disinherited knight, and my history resembles yours.  Upon my return to England I found another in possession of the land and titles that belonged to the noble I followed, and which King Richard bestowed upon me.  The Earl of Evesham was doubtless known to you, and before his death King Richard, at his request, bestowed upon me as his adopted son—­although but a distant connection—­his title and lands and the hand of his daughter.  Prince John, who now rules in England, had however granted these things to one of his favorites, and he having taken possession of the land and title, though not, happily, of the lady, closed his door somewhat roughly in my face.  I found means, however, to make my mark upon him; but as our quarrel could not be fought out to the end, and as the false knight had the aid of Prince John, I am forced for awhile to postpone our settlement, and meeting my good friend the minstrel, agreed to join him in his enterprise to discover our lord the king.”