“This is indeed a strange surprise,” began Sir Ronald, as soon as they were out of danger of being overheard.  “We felt sure that thou wast dead, and have often thought of thee.  Where hast thou been?”

“Hiding in the country.  I have been a village smith.”

“A smith!” cried the knight.  “Then that fancy of yours for working with metals has stood thee in good stead for once?”

“It has indeed; but it was a base use withal.”

“Thou has been well hidden, for Her Majesty’s servants have scoured the country to discover your where-about.”

“I have been at Haddon in the Peak,” he replied.

“Haddon:  phew!  Do you know that arrogant knight, Sir George Vernon?”

“Do I know him?” echoed Edmund.  “Would to heaven I had never cast my eyes upon him.”

“Ah! he has stung thee too, I perceive?” exclaimed Sir Ronald.  “I hate him like poison.  It should go ill with him did I ever have the power.  I hear he is a Papist; cannot we prove aught against him on that score?” and the excited knight wistfully regarded his companion’s face, waiting for a favourable reply.

“I should like some supper first,” drily suggested the toil-worn traveller, “and then,” he added, “I may satisfy your eagerness to the fullest extent.  I have a score of my own against him to clear off yet, and, what is more to the point, Ronald, I have the power.  It was for that I came to visit you.”

“Ha!” ejaculated the knight, expectantly.  “He can satisfy my craving to the fullest extent,” he mused.  “This is fortunate.”

“Yes,” continued Edmund, “we shall have him cited to London; he is surely within our power.  He hath grievously broken the law, and will have to answer to the charge of murder and treason; and if we cannot compass his ruin, then, between us, I have other ways, of which no man knows.”

“Hush,” said Sir Ronald.  “That led thee into trouble aforetime.  Here is Lettice coming down the steps.”

“That is not Nicholas with her, surely?” exclaimed Edmund.

“No, Nicholas has discarded us and turned monk, I hear, but where he is I cannot tell.  That is John Manners, the nephew of the Earl of Rutland.  He is after my Lucy, I trow.”

“Manners, Manners, John Manners,” murmured Edmund; “I have heard that name before.  I have met him somewhere I am sure.”

“Well, hither he comes,” said the knight; “now do you remember him?”

As soon as Edmund caught sight of the young man’s face he recognised him.

“Why,” he exclaimed, “that’s—­I know him well enough:  I have seen him at Haddon.”

“At Haddon!”

“Yes, let me hide myself; I would rather not meet him here; it were better so for both of us.  Where shall I go, tell me; quick?”

“Steady, ho! steady, man,” said the knight.  “Hie thee back again to the lodge and wait for me there.  Wilton shall let you share his supper if thou wilt.  I will tell them you are a gardener if they ask aught about thee,” and in answer to the beckoning of his wife, Sir Ronald left his newly-discovered relation and hastened across the green.