Condall or Tyndal," returned Sir Daniel, grinning, "I will run my peril

of that loss. Write me down twenty, and when I have recovered all I may,

I will be good lord to you, and pardon you the rest."

"Alas! my good lord, it may not be; I have no skill to write," said

Condall.

Well-a-day!" returned the knight. "Here, then, is no remedy. Yet I

would fain have spared you, Tyndal, had my conscience suffered. Selden,

take me this old shrew softly to the nearest elm, and hang me him

tenderly by the neck, where I may see him at my riding. Fare ye well,

good Master Condall, dear Master Tyndal; y' are post-haste for Paradise;

fare ye then well!"

"Nay, my right pleasant lord," replied Condall, forcing an obsequious

smile, "an ye be so masterful, as doth right well become you, I will

even, with all my poor skill, do your good bidding."

"Friend," quoth Sir Daniel, "ye will now write two score. Go to! y' are

too cunning for a livelihood of seventy shillings. Selden, see him write

me this in good form, and have it duly witnessed."

And Sir Daniel, who was a very merry knight, none merrier in England,

took a drink of his mulled ale, and lay back, smiling.

Meanwhile, the boy upon the floor began to stir, and presently sat up and

looked about him with a scare.

The Black Arrow