things do in the memory of childhood, but even memory could not make
Falworth the equal of Devlen Castle, when, as he and Diccon Bowman rode
out of Devlentown across the great, rude stone bridge that spanned the
river, he first saw, rising above the crowns of the trees, those
huge hoary walls, and the steep roofs and chimneys clustered thickly
together, like the roofs and chimneys of a town.

The castle was built upon a plateau-like rise of ground, which was
enclosed by the outer wall. It was surrounded on three sides by a
loop-like bend of the river, and on the fourth was protected by a deep,
broad, artificial moat, almost as wide as the stream from which it was
fed. The road from the town wound for a little distance along by the
edge of this moat. As Myles and the old bowman galloped by, with the
answering echo of their horses' hoof-beats rattling back from the smooth
stone face of the walls, the lad looked up, wondering at the height and
strength of the great ancient fortress. In his air-castle building Myles
had pictured the Earl receiving him as the son of his one-time comrade
in arms--receiving him, perhaps, with somewhat of the rustic warmth that
he knew at Crosbey-Dale; but now, as he stared at those massive walls
from below, and realized his own insignificance and the greatness of
this great Earl, he felt the first keen, helpless ache of homesickness
shoot through his breast, and his heart yearned for Crosbey-Holt again.

Then they thundered across the bridge that spanned the moat, and through
the dark shadows of the great gaping gate-way, and Diccon, bidding him
stay for a moment, rode forward to bespeak the gate-keeper.

The gate-keeper gave the two in charge of one of the men-at-arms who
were lounging upon a bench in the archway, who in turn gave them into
the care of one of the house-servants in the outer court-yard. So,