through him that of the King. No, no; I ride to-morrow at the dawn with
you, or, if you are afraid, without you, as I have done before and taken
no harm."

"None shall say that Jeffrey Stokes is afraid of man or priest or
devil," answered the old soldier, colouring. "Your road has been good
enough for me this thirty years, and it is good enough now. If I warned
you it was not for my own sake, who care little what comes, but for
yours and that of your house."

"I know it," said Sir John more kindly. "Take not my words ill, my
temper is up to-day. Thank the saints! here is the hall at last. Why!
whose horse has passed the gates before us?"

Jeffrey glanced at the tracks which the moonlight showed very clearly in
the new-fallen snow.

"Sir Christopher Harflete's grey mare," he said. "I know the shoeing and
the round shape of the hoof. Doubtless he is visiting Mistress Cicely."

"Whom I have forbidden to him," grumbled Sir John, swinging himself from
the saddle.

"Forbid him not," answered Jeffrey, as he took his horse. "Christopher
Harflete may yet be a good friend to a maid in need, and I think that
need is nigh."

"Mind your business, knave," shouted Sir John. "Am I to be set at naught
in my own house by a chit of a girl and a gallant who would mend his
broken fortunes?"