Myles Falworth was but eight years of age at that time, and it was only
afterwards, and when he grew old enough to know more of the ins and outs
of the matter, that he could remember by bits and pieces the things that
afterwards happened; how one evening a knight came clattering into the
court-yard upon a horse, red-nostrilled and smeared with the sweat and
foam of a desperate ride--Sir John Dale, a dear friend of the blind
Lord.

Even though so young, Myles knew that something very serious had
happened to make Sir John so pale and haggard, and he dimly remembered
leaning against the knight's iron-covered knees, looking up into his
gloomy face, and asking him if he was sick to look so strange. Thereupon
those who had been too troubled before to notice him, bethought
themselves of him, and sent him to bed, rebellious at having to go so
early.

He remembered how the next morning, looking out of a window high up
under the eaves, he saw a great troop of horsemen come riding into the
courtyard beneath, where a powdering of snow had whitened everything,
and of how the leader, a knight clad in black armor, dismounted and
entered the great hall door-way below, followed by several of the band.

He remembered how some of the castle women were standing in a frightened
group upon the landing of the stairs, talking together in low voices
about a matter he did not understand, excepting that the armed men who
had ridden into the courtyard had come for Sir John Dale. None of the
women paid any attention to him; so, shunning their notice, he ran off
down the winding stairs, expecting every moment to be called back again
by some one of them.