me, man,
what petticoat business is this? Bestir yourself, fool."

At that Gregory caught the drift of Joseph's suspicions.

"Tis you are the fool," he retorted angrily, springing to his feet, and
towering above his brother.

"It was no ghost sat with me, but Roland Marleigh, himself, in the
flesh, and strangely changed by time. So changed that I knew him not,
nor should I know him now but for that which, not ten minutes ago, I
overheard."

His earnestness was too impressive, his sanity too obvious, and Joseph's
suspicions were all scattered before it.

He caught Gregory's wrist in a grip that made him wince, and forced him
back into his seat.

"Gadslife, man, what is it you mean?" he demanded through set teeth.
"Tell me."

And forthwith Gregory told him of the manner of Kenneth's coming to
Sheringham and to Castle Marleigh, accompanied by one Crispin Galliard,
the same that had been known for his mad exploits in the late wars as
"rakehelly Galliard," and that was now known to the malignants as "The
Tavern Knight" for his debauched habits. Crispin's mention of Roland
Marleigh on the night of his arrival now returned vividly to Gregory's
mind, and he repeated it, ending with the story that that very evening
he had overheard Kenneth telling Cynthia.

"And this Galliard, then, is none other than that pup of insolence,
Roland Marleigh, grown into a dog of war?" quoth Joseph.

He was calm--singularly calm for one who had heard such news.

"There remains no doubt of it."

"And you saw this man day by day, sat with him night by night over your
damned sack, and knew him not? Oddswounds, man, where were your eyes?"

"I may have been blind. But he is greatly changed. I would defy you,
Joseph, to have recognized him."

Joseph sneered, and the flash of his eyes told of the contempt wherein
he held his brother's judgment and opinions.

"Think not that, Gregory. I have cause enough to remember him," said
Joseph, with an unpleasant laugh. Then as suddenly changing his tone for
one of eager anxiety:

"But the lad, Gregory, does he suspect, think you?"

"Not a whit. In that lies this fellow's diabolical cunning. Learning of
Kenneth's relations with us, he seized the opportunity Fate offered him
that night at Worcester, and bound the lad on oath to help him when he
should demand it, without disclosing the names of those against whom he
should require his services. The boy expects at any moment to be bidden
to go fort