hree years ago."

"If I am changed, it is not in my love for home, and for all who dwell
there," said Eustace, "or rather, I love them better than before.
Little did I dream what a meeting awaited me!" Again there was a long
pause, which Eustace at length broke by saying, "What is the need you
spoke of? What danger do you fear?"

"This is no scene for dwelling on the evil deeds of wicked men
otherwise than to pray for them," said the Priest; "but return with me
to the hall, and you shall hear."

Eustace lingered a few moments longer, before, heaving a deep sigh he
returned to the hall, where he found Gaston and Ingram, just come in
from attending to the horses, and Ralph hurrying the servants in
setting out an ample meal for the travellers.

"My good old friend," said Eustace, holding out his hand as he entered,
"I have not greeted you aright. You must throw the blame on the
tidings that took from me all other thought, Ralph; for never was there
face which I was more rejoiced to see.

"It was the blame of our own reception of you, Sir Eustace," said old
Penrose. "I could tear my hair to think that you should have met with
no better welcome than barred gates and owlet shrieks; but did you but
know how wildly your bugle-blast rose upon our ear, while we sat over
the fire well-nigh distraught with sorrow, you would not marvel that we
deemed that the spirit of our good Knight might be borne upon the
moaning wind."

"Yet," said Arthur, "I knew the note, and would have gone to the turret
window, but that Mistress Cicely held me fast; and when they sent
Jocelyn to look, the cowardly knave brought back the tale which you
broke short."

"Boast not, Master Arthur," said Gaston; "you believed in our ghostship
as fully as any of them."

"But met us manfully," said Eustace. "But why all these precautions?
Why the drawbridge raised? That could scarce be against a ghost."

"Alas! Sir Eustace, there are bodily foes abroad!" said Ralph. "By
your leave, Master d'Aubricour," as Gaston was about to assist his
Knight in unfastening his armour, "none shall lay a hand near Sir
Eustace but myself on this first night of his return; thanks be to St.
Dunstan that he has come!" Eustace stood patiently for several minutes
while the old man fumbled with his armour, and presently came the
exclamation, "A plague on these new-fangled clasps which a man cannot
undo for his life! 'Twas this low corselet that was the death of good
Si