As Dicky Cheke darted after the figure which disappeared in the mist, he stumbled over some obstacle on the ground, and nearly fell. Recovering himself hastily, he stooped down to see what it was. The moon had risen higher, and the black edge of the shadow of the castle was receding before the silver light.

"Holy Saints!" gasped Dicky, as he stooped down, and saw with horror that what had caused him to tumble was the body of Ralph Lisle, the gleam of his gay dress plainly telling who it was. "I have come too late."

Then springing up, he called to the guard to bring a light, and run for a leech. The shouts of the boy soon brought assistance. Three archers on guard hurried out of the gate, carrying a lighted cresset with them. By the lurid glare of the smoky light Dicky, who was kneeling down by his insensible friend, could see a dark stain marring the rich colours of the tunic, and a black pool under the right side of the prostrate boy.

"He's been hard stricken," said one of the men.

"Here's been foul play. But who'd hurt Master Lisle?" said another.

"Now, none of your talking," said Dicky. "Get some water and cloths." At the same time he tore up his fine white linen tabard and laid the pieces over the small puncture from which the blood was welling in ominous streams. "I' faith, the poor lad will bleed to death, an the leech comes not."

"Here he comes," said the other archer, as a tall figure in a long fur gown came out of the wicket-gate, attended by several others, among whom the weather-beaten face of Sir John Trenchard was visible.

"How's this? how's this?" he inquired peremptorily. "How came the lad out here?"

No one answered.

"Which of you men was on guard?"

"Please your worship, 'twas my guard," said one of the men, knowing that Sir John Trenchard would be sure to find out, and thinking it best to make a virtue of necessity.

"Then how came this about?" said the Seneschal sternly.

"Marry, Sir John, 'tis more than I know. 'Tis parlous dark under the gateway, and belike he slipped out while my back was turned."

"Get you to the guard-room. There'll be more of this anon," said Sir John sharply. Then turning to the leech, he asked, "Is the boy dead?"

"Nay, Sir John; 'tis a deep wound, but not mortal. There's no artery severed, as thou mayest see by the darker colour of the blood. Had it been of a scarlet colour, 'twould have been useless for me to come. The flow is already stayed. We must get him to his bed, but that gently."

While the archers were raising Ralph with great care, Sir John Trenchard closely questioned Dicky Cheke as to how he came to find Ralph, and elicited from the page how the mysterious warning had been given him by the little girl, and how Bowerman had been designated as cherishing vengeful designs on Ralph.

"Where is Bowerman?" said Sir John Trenchard.

"Nay, I have seen him not," answered Dicky Cheke.

"Bid the pages be called to my apartment," said Sir John to one of the yeomen who attended on him. Then turning to Dicky, he said, "And who is this little wench?"

"I know not, Sir John. I never saw her before to-day."

"Hast thou any cause to suspect any one? Thou mayest speak freely; 'tis a case will have to be carefully inquired into."

Dicky Cheke hesitated; he had the natural disinclination all honest, manly natures have to incriminate any one, or harbour a thought that might do an injustice to another. Like all the rest of the garrison, he strongly suspected that Bowerman was at the bottom of the cruel trick which had been played on Black Tom, and he more than mistrusted him in this present case.

"Well, Master Cheke, hast thou no answer to give? 'Tis a grave matter. Thou wilt have to answer. Dost thou mistrust Eustace Bowerman?"

"Yes, Sir John," said Dicky, slowly and reluctantly.

"Ay, marry, and so do I. But we shall see anon."

They had now entered the courtyard. At the sight of the little procession--the four stalwart men walking in time, and the pale face of the insensible boy--the dancers all stopped, and came crowding round; but at a word from Sir John Trenchard, and a polite request from the Captain of the Wight to continue their festivity, the guests resumed their dancing, only Yolande insisted on going into the hall with her injured cousin, and old Sir William Lisle attended her. The leech now carefully examined the wound, and his verdict was anxiously awaited.

The usual remedies were resorted to for restoring animation, and, to the joy of Yolande, after a little quiver of the eyelids, they slowly opened, and Ralph once more looked upon the world.

The leech, seeing that all immediate danger was over, and that the h?morrhage was yielding to the treatment, directed a bed to be made ready in a room adjoining the hall, and then dilated upon the excellencies of his remedies, to the great impatience of Yolande.

"But, Master Leech, will he get well? Is it a dangerous wound?"

"Nay, fair Mistress Lisle, science answereth not such bold questions as these but with silence. To get well is in the hands of God; we can but speak of how science and medicine knoweth what is the best course to adopt. 'Tis well known to those admitted to the occult arcana of the heavenly influences that the celestial bodies exercise a strange influence on our poor bodies of clay. Sol draweth unto him during the day the blood of our systems, gentle Mater Nox appeaseth the heat of our sanguine flow, and settleth the blood in our extremities. As at the third hour the bile subsideth, so that its acrid properties be not blended with the flow of the blood, so also at the second hour the atrabilis subsides, and in the eventime the phlegm abateth--"

"Marry, Master Surgeon Barber, thy discourse causeth my head to buzz. Tell me plainly an thou canst, is my cousin in danger of death?"

"Noble lady, to give a short answer becometh not the dignity of my art. There are hopes in that chaste Luna is in the ascendant, and ?sculapius ruleth the seventh house, that what is natheless a deadly thrust may yield to my remedies. But as the learned Averroes--than whom my old master, the worshipful Master Thomas Morstede, knew no--"

"Beshrew me, Master Barber, thou wilt drive me mad!" cried the impatient Yolande. "Canst thou not answer me plainly, instead of talking thy jaw-breaking jargon?"

But the leech or barber was incensed at this want of respect, especially coming from a young lady, and he briefly replied he must wait before giving an opinion until Aldeboran reached the third house.

Compelled to be satisfied with this answer, Yolande saw her cousin moved to his new couch, and then, recognising the absolute necessity of not disturbing him, she returned to the festivities, over which a cloud had been cast by this strange event.

Meanwhile Sir John Trenchard had gone to his apartment, and thither Maurice Woodville, Willie Newenhall and Dicky Cheke followed him.

"Where's Master Bowerman?" inquired the Seneschal.

No one answered.

"Who saw him last?" was the next question.

Newenhall moved uneasily, but looked as stolid as ever.

"Master Newenhall, thou art the eldest; tell me where you last saw Master Bowerman."

"An it please you, Sir John, 'twas after the banquet was over."

"Well, where was he? Was he dancing?"

"He was dancing."

"How long agone was that?"

Newenhall twisted his cap round, and looked more stupid and vacant than ever.

"Come, Master Newenhall, brush up thy wits and give a short answer--time presses."

"Maybe 'twas an hour ago," said the page sullenly.

Sir John Trenchard, seeing that Newenhall, either through stupidity or on purpose, would give no useful information, turned to Dicky Cheke and bid him narrate all the circumstances of his finding Ralph.

When he heard of the figure disappearing over the steep declivity on the other side of the road, Sir John rated Master Cheke soundly for not having bid one of the archers pursue him; and in spite of Dicky's protestations that he was so flurried by the sight of Ralph's body lying bleeding in the road, as to think only of helping him, that young gentleman was severely reprimanded for his absence of mind.

"One who would be a useful knight, and serve his prince well, should never forget what is the right course, never mind what may be the obstacles," said the Seneschal, with stern sententiousness.

Maurice Woodville could give no information; he had been in close attendance on the Captain of the Wight, and had not seen Bowerman at all.

Orders were now issued to have the castle searched for the missing page, but with no result. He was not found, and no one had any doubt that it was Eustace Bowerman who had struck the blow.

The guests all dispersed to their homes soon afterwards, many of them being accommodated for the night in the castle as guests of the Captain of the Wight; among whom Sir William Lisle and his daughter, with the Abbot of Quarr, were the most honoured.

The next morning, the first visitor to inquire after Ralph was his cousin Yolande. It was joyful news to her to hear that he had passed a quiet night, and, although very weak and faint from loss of blood, was doing well. No one had as yet questio............