'But did he make it right with the King?' Dan asked. 'About your not
being traitors, I mean.'

Sir Richard smiled. 'The King sent no second summons to Pevensey, nor
did he ask why De Aquila had not obeyed the first. Yes, that was Fulke's
work. I know not how he did it, but it was well and swiftly done.'

'Then you didn't do anything to his son?' said Una.

'The boy? Oh, he was an imp! He turned the keep doors out of dortoirs
while we had him. He sang foul songs, learned in the Barons' camps--poor
fool; he set the hounds fighting in Hall; he lit the rushes to drive
out, as he said, the fleas; he drew his dagger on Jehan, who threw him
down the stairway for it; and he rode his horse through crops and among
sheep. But when we had beaten him, and showed him wolf and deer, he
followed us old men like a young, eager hound, and called us "uncle".
His father came the summer's end to take him away, but the boy had no
lust to go, because of the otter-hunting, and he stayed on till the
fox-hunting. I gave him a bittern's claw to bring him good luck at
shooting. An imp, if ever there was!'

'And what happened to Gilbert?' said Dan.

'Not even a whipping. De Aquila said he would sooner a clerk, however
false, that knew the Manor-roll than a fool, however true, that must be
taught his work afresh. Moreover, after that night I think Gilbert loved
as much as he feared De Aquila. At least he would not leave us--not even
when Vivian, the King's Clerk, would have made him Sacristan of Battle
Abbey. A false fellow, but, in his fashion, bold.'