“Peace, Sir Knight!” said Waldemar; “and you, good my lord, forgive the scruples of valiant De Bracy; I trust I shall soon remove them.”

“That passes your eloquence, Fitzurse,” replied the knight.

“Why, good Sir Maurice,” rejoined the wily politician, “start not aside like a scared steed, without, at least, considering the object of your terror. This Richard—but a day since, and it would have been thy dearest wish to have met him hand to hand in the ranks of battle—a hundred times I have heard thee wish it.”

“Ay,” said De Bracy, “but that was, as thou sayest, hand to hand, and in the ranks of battle! Thou never heardest me breathe a thought of assaulting him alone, and in a forest.”

“Thou art no good knight if thou dost scruple at it,” said Waldemar. “Was it in battle that Lancelot de Lac and Sir Tristram won renown? or was it not by encountering gigantic knights under the shade of deep and unknown forests?”

“Ay, but I promise you,” said De Bracy, “that neither Tristram nor Lancelot would have been match, hand to hand, for Richard Plantagenet, and I think it was not their wont to take odds against a single man.”

“Thou art mad, De Bracy—what is it we propose to thee, a hired and retained captain of Free Companions, whose swords are purchased for Prince John’s service? Thou art apprised of our enemy, and then thou scruplest, though thy patron’s fortunes, those of thy comrades, thine own, and the life and honour of every one amongst us, be at stake!”

“I tell you,” said De Bracy sullenly, “that he gave me my life. True, he sent me from his presence, and refused my homage—so far I owe him neither favour nor allegiance—but I will not lift hand against him.”

“It needs not—send Louis Winkelbrand and a score of thy lances.”

“Ye have sufficient ruffians of your own,” said De Bracy; “not one of mine shall budge on such an errand.”

“Art thou so obstinate, De Bracy?” said Prince John; “and wilt thou forsake me, after so many protestations of zeal for my service?”

“I mean it not,” said De Bracy; “I will abide by you in aught that becomes a knight, whether in the lists or in the camp; but this highway practice comes not within my vow.”

“Come hither, Waldemar,” said Prince John. “An unhappy prince am I. My father, King Henry, had faithful servants.—He had but to say that he was plagued with a factious priest, and the blood of Thomas à Becket, saint though he was, stained the steps of his own altar.—Tracy, Morville, Brito,^* loyal and daring subjects, your names, your spirit, are extinct! and although Reginald Fitzurse hath left a son, he hath fallen off from his father’s fidelity and courage.”

“He has fallen off from neither,” said Waldemar Fitzurse; “and since it may not better be, I will take on me the conduct of this perilous enterprise. Dearly, however, did my father purchase the praise of a zealous friend; and yet did his proof of loyalty to Henry fall far short of what I am about to afford; for rather would I assail a whole calendar of saints, than put spear in rest against Cœur-de-Lion.—De Bracy, to thee I must trust to keep up the spirits of the doubtful, and to guard Prince John’s person. If you receive such news as I trust to send you, our enterprise will no longer wear a doubtful aspect.—Page,” he said, “hie to my lodgings, and tell my armourer to be there in readiness; and bid Stephen Wetheral, Broad Thoresby, and the Three Spears of Spyinghow, come to me instantly; and let the scout-master, Hugh Bardon, attend me also.—Adieu, my Prince, till better times.” Thus speaking, he left the apartment.

“He goes to make my brother prisoner,” said Prince John to De Bracy, “with as little touch of compunction as if it but concerned the liberty of a Saxon franklin. I trust he will observe our orders, and use our dear Richard’s person with all due respect.”