"Then when thou dost so write," said Sir James, "give thou my deep
regards to thy father." Then he continued, after a brief pause. "Him did
I know well in times gone by, and we were right true friends in hearty
love, and for his sake I would befriend thee--that is, in so much as is
fitting."

"Sir," said Myles; but Sir James held up his hand, and he stopped short
in his thanks.

"But, boy," said he, "that which I sent for thee for to tell thee was of
more import than these. Dost thou know that thy father is an attainted
outlaw?"

"Nay," cried Myles, his cheeks blazing up as red as fire; "who sayeth
that of him lieth in his teeth."

"Thou dost mistake me," said Sir James, quietly. "It is sometimes no
shame to be outlawed and banned. Had it been so, I would not have told
thee thereof, nor have bidden thee send my true love to thy father, as
I did but now. But, boy, certes he standest continually in great
danger--greater than thou wottest of. Were it known where he lieth hid,
it might be to his undoing and utter ruin. Methought that belike thou
mightest not know that; and so I sent for thee for to tell thee that it
behoovest thee to say not one single word concerning him to any of these
new friends of thine, nor who he is, nor what he is."

"But how came my father to be so banned?" said Myles, in a constrained
and husky voice, and after a long time of silence.

"That I may not tell thee just now," said the old knight, "only