"Father!" repeated Wilfred with an expression indicative of
something deeper yet than scorn or hatred, but he said no more.

The blast of trumpets from the approaching troop aroused the
inmates of the castle, and they flocked to their battlements to
behold the pennon of Eustace de Blois, familiar to them on many a
hard-fought field of old.

Immediately there was bustling and saddling, and a troop of horse
issued over the drawbridge to greet the coming guest. Foremost
amongst them was the grim stepfather, and by his side rode Etienne.

Imagine their surprise when they recognised Wilfred in the train of
their visitor; we can hardly paint fitly the scornful looks of
Etienne, or the grimness of the stepfather.

But there was etiquette to be consulted--a most important element
in the days of chivalry--and no question was asked until all the
customary salutations had been made.

"I see my son Wilfred has been the first to welcome thee; may I ask
where he met thee on the road?" asked Hugo, of Eustace.

"Many a long mile from here; I will tell thee more anon."

"Did he return of his own free will?" thought the baron, but
politeness forced him to wait his guest's own time for the dialogue
which he felt awaited him.

Meanwhile Etienne had regaled Wilfred with a succession of scornful