Said David: "I would fain hope 'tis the catch of a life
that or I love; for here is come thy guest of last Yule,
even little Christopher, who wrestled with thee and threw
thee after thou hadst thrown all of us, and he lying along
and hurt, smitten down by a felon hard on our very doors.
What will ye do with him?"

"What," said Jack of the Tofts, "but tend him and heal him
and cherish him. And when he is well, then we shall see.
But where is the felon who smote him?"

Said David: "He fled away a-horseback ere we came to the
field of deed, and Anthony Green and Ralph Longshanks are
gone after him, and belike, will take him."

"Mayhappen not," said the master. "Now, forsooth, I have an
inkling of what this may mean; whereas there can be but one
man whose business may be the taking of our little guest's
life. But let all be till he be healed and may tell us his
tale; and, if he telleth it as I deem he will, then shall we
seek further tidings. Meanwhile, if ye take the felon, keep
him heedfully till I may see him; for then may I have a true
tale out of him, even before Christopher is hale again."

So therewith David and Robert, with two or three others,
brought Christopher to a chamber, and did what leechdoms to
him they might; but Jack of the Tofts, and his sons and
their fair wives, and his other folk, made merry in the hall
of the Tofts.