ings fully stated," answered Richard,
presenting the priest's letter. "And please you farther, ye were best
make all speed to Risingham; for on the way hither we encountered one
riding furiously with letters, and by his report, my Lord of Risingham
was sore bestead, and lacked exceedingly your presence."

"How say you? Sore bestead?" returned the knight. "Nay, then, we will
make speed sitting down, good Richard. As the world goes in this poor
realm of England, he that rides softliest rides surest. Delay, they say,
begetteth peril; but it is rather this itch of doing that undoes men;
mark it, Dick. But let me see, first, what cattle ye have
brought.--Selden, a link here at the door!"

And Sir Daniel strode forth into the village street, and, by the red
glow of a torch, inspected his new troops. He was an unpopular neighbour
and an unpopular master; but as a leader in war he was well beloved by
those who rode behind his pennant. His dash, his proved courage, his
forethought for the soldiers' comfort, even his rough gibes, were all to
the taste of the bold blades in jack and salet.

"Nay, by the rood!" he cried, "what poor dogs are these? Here be some as
crooked as a bow, and some as lean as a spear. Friends, ye shall ride in
the front of the battle; I can spare you, friends. Mark me this old
villain on the piebald! A two-year mutton riding on a hog would look
more soldierly! Ha! Clipsby, are ye there, old rat? Y' are a man I could
lose with a good heart; ye shall go in front of all, with a bull's-eye
painted on your jack, to be the better butt for archery; sirrah, ye
shall show me the way."

"I will show you any way, Sir Daniel, but the way to change sides,"
returned Clipsby sturdily.

Sir Daniel laughed a guffaw.

"Why, well said!" he cried. "Hast a shrewd tongue in thy mouth, go to! I
will forgive you for that merry word.--Selden, see them fed, both man
and brute."

The knight re-entered the inn.

"Now, friend Dick," he said, "fall to. Here is good ale and bacon. Eat
while that I read."

Sir Daniel opened the packet, and as he read his brow darkened. When he
had done he sat a little, musing. Then he looked sharply at his ward.

"Dick," said he, "y' have seen this penny rhyme?"

The lad replied in the affirmative.

"It bears your father's name," continued the knight; "and our poor shrew
of a parson is, by some mad soul, accused of slaying him."

"He did most eagerly deny it," answered Dick.

"He did?" c