("Wolf’s den, you mean,” interrupted Ralph—­)

“And we have come unattended, the sooner we retire the better.”

“Too late!” said a stern voice:  and Drogo stood before them.

“My Lord of Walderne, this is ill pleasantry,” said Ralph.

“‘Pleasantry,’ you call it, well.  So it is for those who win.”

He whistled shrill,
And quick was answered from the hill;
That whistle garrisoned the glen,
With twice a hundred armed men.

In short, the three travellers were surrounded on all sides.  Their errand had been betrayed by one of Drogo’s outlying scouts.

“What is thy purpose, Drogo?” said Martin.

“Do ye yield yourselves prisoners?”

“On what compulsion?”

“Force, the right that rules the world.”

“And what pretext for using it?” said Ralph, drawing his sword.

“I should advise thee not to touch thy weapon, unless thy skill is proof against an arrow.  In a word, Ralph of Herstmonceux, art thou for the king or the barons?”

“Thou knowest—­the barons.”

“And I for the king; no more need be said.  Yield to ransom.

“I will not give my sword to thee,” and Ralph flung it into a pond.

“And what right hast thou to arrest me?” said the mayor.

“Good mayor, hast thou not stirred up thy town of Hamelsham, thy puissant butchers and bakers, to resist the good king and to send aid to the rebellious Earl of Leicester, may the fiends rive him!  Wherefore I might, without further parley, hang thee to this beech, which never bore a worthier acorn.”

“Yes, hang him for the general amusement,” said several deep voices.

“Nay, dead men pay no ransom, and we will make his beer-swilling, beef-eating brother burghers pay a good sum for his fat body.

“Thou hast thy choice, mayor.  Ransom or rope?”

“Seeing I must choose, ransom; but rate me not too high, I am a poor man.”

They laughed immoderately.

“We have borrowed a hint from the outlaws, and unless thy brethren pay for thee soon, we will send thy worthless body to them in installments, first one ear, then the other, and so on.”

“Our Lady help me!”

“Brother, be patient.  Heaven will help us, since there is no help in man,” said Martin.  “And now, Drogo, whom I knew so well of old, and in whom I see little change, what is thy charge against me?”

“A very serious one, brother Martin, and one I grieve to bring against such an eloquent preacher of the Gospel, but my conscience compels me.”

“Thy conscience!”

“Yes, I can afford to keep one as well as thou.  Dost thou think thou art the only creature who has a soul to be saved?”

“Go on without further blasphemies.”

“Well then, I grieve to say that it is my painful duty to arrest thee on a charge of murder.”

“Of murder!” cried all three.