murdered?"
he asked.

"Nay," said Dick, "pardon me if I answer churlishly; but indeed ye know
right well a wardship is most profitable. All these years have ye not
enjoyed my revenues, and led my men? Have ye not still my marriage? I
wot not what it may be worth--it is worth something. Pardon me again;
but if ye were base enough to slay a man under trust, here were, perhaps,
reasons enough to move you to the lesser baseness."

"When I was lad of your years," returned Sir Daniel, sternly, "my mind
had not so turned upon suspicions. And Sir Oliver here," he added, "why
should he, a priest, be guilty of this act?"

"Nay, Sir Daniel," said Dick, "but where the master biddeth there will
the dog go. It is well known this priest is but your instrument. I
speak very freely; the time is not for courtesies. Even as I speak, so
would I be answered. And answer get I none! Ye but put more questions.
I rede ye be ware, Sir Daniel; for in this way ye will but nourish and
not satisfy my doubts."

"I will answer you fairly, Master Richard," said the knight. "Were I to
pretend ye have not stirred my wrath, I were no honest man. But I will
be just even in anger. Come to me with these words when y' are grown and
come to man's estate, and I am no longer your guardian, and so helpless
to resent them. Come to me then, and I will answer you as ye merit, with
a buffet in the mouth. Till then ye have two courses: either swallow me
down these insults, keep a silent tongue, and fight in the meanwhile for
the man that fed and fought for your infancy; or else--the door standeth
open, the woods are full of mine enemies--go."

The spirit with which these words were uttered, the looks with which they
were accompanied, staggered Dick; and yet he could not but observe that
he had got no answer.

"I desire nothing more earnestly, Sir Daniel, than to believe you," he
replied. "Assure me ye are free from this."

"Will ye take my word of honour, Dick?" inquired the knight.

"That would I," answered the lad.

"I give it you," returned Sir Daniel. "Upon my word of honour, upon the
eternal welfare of my spirit, and as I shall answer for my deeds
hereafter, I had no hand nor portion in your father's death."

He extended his hand, and Dick took it eagerly. Neither of them observed
the priest, who, at the pronunciation of that solemn and false oath, had
half arisen from his seat in an agony of horror and remorse.

"Ah," cried Dick, "