same short tone as before.

"You are sure he slept at home last night, dame?" said Surrey.

"As sure as l am that the question is asked me," she replied. "I can
show you the very bed on which he slept, if you desire to see it. He
retired soon after sunset--slept soundly, as he always sleeps--and arose
as I have told you. I lighted a fire, and made him some hot pottage
myself."

"If she speaks the truth, you must be mistaken," observed Richmond in
a whisper to his friend.

"I do not believe her," replied Surrey, in the same tone. "Show us his
chamber, dame."

The old crone sullenly complied, and, throwing open a side door,
disclosed an inner apartment, in which there was a small bed. There
was nothing noticeable in the room except a couple of fishing-nets, a
hunting-spear, and an old cross-bow. A small open casement looked
upon the river, whose clear sparkling waters flowed immediately
beneath it.

Surrey approached the window, and obtained a fine view of the Brocas
meads on the one hand, and the embowered college of Eton on the
other. His attention, however, was diverted by a fierce barking without,
and the next moment, in spite of the vociferations of the old woman, a
large black staghound, which Surrey recognised as Fenwolf's dog,
Bawsey, burst through the door, and rushed furiously towards him.
Surrey drew his dagger to defend himself from the hound's attack, but