"Sirrah," said Sir Daniel, "your name?"

"An't please your worship," replied the man, "my name is Condall--Condall

of Shoreby, at your good worship's pleasure."

"I have heard you ill reported on," returned the knight. "Ye deal in

treason, rogue; ye trudge the country leasing; y' are heavily suspicioned

of the death of severals. How, fellow, are ye so bold? But I will bring

you down."

Right honourable and my reverend lord," the man cried, "here is some

hodge-podge, saving your good presence. I am but a poor private man, and

have hurt none."

The under-sheriff did report of you most vilely," said the knight.

'Seize me,' saith he, 'that Tyndal of Shoreby.'"

Condall, my good lord; Condall is my poor name," said the unfortunate.

Condall or Tyndal, it is all one," replied Sir Daniel, coolly. "For, by

my sooth, y' are here and I do mightily suspect your honesty. If ye

would save your neck, write me swiftly an obligation for twenty pound."

"For twenty pound, my good lord!" cried Condall. "Here is midsummer

madness! My whole estate amounteth not to seventy shillings."

The Black Arrow