Humphrey had not been idle.

"My change of raiment?" said the strange lad, inquiringly.

"Shall be in thy chamber presently," answered Josceline.

"I would that Fleetfoot also might be conveyed thither," said the
stranger, with an engaging smile.

"It shall be done," promised Josceline.

He gave the necessary commands to two grooms, and the lads, each the
counterpart of the other, waited a few moments and then started toward
the tower stairway, followed by the grooms bearing the huge dog between
them on a stretcher. The stair was steep, narrow, and winding, and
built of stone. Josceline went first, and was followed by the stranger,
who every now and then glanced back to speak a reassuring word to his
dog. At the entrance to the ladies' bower Josceline paused. "Thou
mayest, if thou like, lay the dog for a while on a skin by my mother's
fire," he said, and looked inquiringly at his guest.

"That would I be glad to do," was the grateful reply. "See how he
shivers from the loss of blood and the chill air."

For answer Josceline waved his hand toward his mother's parlor, and the
grooms, conveying the dog, obediently entered. For all but Humphrey,
the Saxon serving-man, were accustomed to obey the young heir
unquestioningly. But Humphrey obeyed no one without question. It was
often necessary to convince his rather slow reason and his active and
many superstitions before his obedience could be secured. No one else