Nigel, leaning on his sword
by the gateway, saw Aylward totter past, a huge bundle under each
arm, another slung over his back and a smaller packet hanging from
his mouth. He dropped it for a moment as he passed his young
master.
"By these ten finger-bones! I am right glad that I came to the
war, and no man could ask for a more goodly life," said he. "I
have a present here for every girl in Tilford, and my father need
never fear the frown of the sacrist of Waverley again. But how of
you, Squire Loring? It standeth not aright that we should gather
the harvest whilst you, who sowed it, go forth empty-handed.
Come, gentle sir, take these things that I have gathered, and I
will go back and find more."
But Nigel smiled and shook his head. "You have gained what your
heart desired, and perchance I have done so also," said he.
An instant later Knolles strode up to him with outstretched hand.
"I ask your pardon, Nigel," said he. "I have spoken too hotly in
my wrath."
"Nay, fair sir, I was at fault."
"If we stand here now within this castle, it is to you that I owe
it. The King shall know of it, and Chandos also. Can I do aught
else, Nigel, to prove to you the high esteem in which I hold you?"
The Squire flushed with pleasure. "Do you send a messenger home
to England, fair sir, with news of these doings?"
"Surely, I must do so.
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