"Promise that I go
free, and you shall have it back, if it be indeed true that my
wife has taken it."
"Nay, I cannot do that," said Nigel. "My honor would surely be
concerned, since my loss is a private one; but it would be to the
public scathe that you should go free. By Saint Paul! it would be
an ungentle deed if in order to save my own I let you loose upon
the gear of a hundred others."
"I will not ask you to let me loose," said the "Wild Man." "If
you will promise that my life be spared I will restore your bag."
"I cannot give such a promise, for it will lie with the Sheriff
and reeves of Guildford."
"Shall I have your word in my favor?"
"That I could promise you, if you will give back the bag, though I
know not how far my word may avail. But your words are vain, for
you cannot think that we will be so fond as to let you go in the
hope that you return?"
"I would not ask it," said the "Wild Man," "for I can get your bag
and yet never stir from the spot where I stand. Have I your
promise upon your honor and all that you hold dear that you will
ask for grace?"
"You have."
"And that my wife shall be unharmed?"
"I promise it."
The outlaw laid back his head and uttered a long shrill cry like
the howl of a wolf. There was a silent pause, and then, clear and
shrill, there rose the same cry no great distance away in the
forest.
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