Then at last, one day as I feasted after hunting the red deer on the
Quantocks, my steward came into my hall announcing messengers from the
king. They followed close on his heels, and I, who had seen nothing of
courts, wondered that so many armed men should be needed in a peaceful
hall, and yet watched them as one watches a gay show, till some fifty
men of the king's household lined my hall and fifty more blocked the
doorway. My people watched too, and I saw a smile cross from one of
Matelgar's men to another, but thought no guile.

Then one came forward and arrested me in the king's name as a traitor,
and I drew my sword on him, telling him he lied in giving me that name,
calling too on my men to aid me. But they were overmatched, and dared
not resist, for the swords of the king's men were out, and, moreover, I
saw that Matelgar's men were weaponless. He himself was not with me, and
still I had no thought of treachery.

So the end was that I was pinioned from behind and bound, and taken away
that night to where I knew not. Only, wherever it was, I was kept in
darkness and chains, maddened by the injustice of the thing and my own
helplessness, till I lost count of days, and at last hope itself. And
all that time the real reason for my arrest, and for the accusation that
caused it, never entered my mind, and least of all did I suspect that
Matelgar, my friend, was at the bottom of it. Indeed, I hoped at first
that, hearing of my trouble, he would interfere and procure my release,
till, as I say, hope was gone.

It was March when I was taken to prison. It was into broad May sunshine
and greenness that I was brought out by my surly jailers at last, set,
half blind with the darkness of the prison, on a good horse, and so,
with my hands bound behind me, led off in the midst of a strong guard to