'"Bones of the Saints!" said De Aquila, laughing. "The pen cuts deep. I
could never have fetched that grunt out of thee with any sword."

'"But so long as I do not anger thee, my tale will be secret?" said
Fulke.

'"Just so long. Does that comfort thee, Fulke?" said De Aquila.

'"What other comfort have ye left me?" he said, and of a sudden he wept
hopelessly like a child, dropping his face on his knees.'

'Poor Fulke,' said Una.

'I pitied him also,' said Sir Richard.

'"After the spur, corn," said De Aquila, and he threw Fulke three wedges
of gold that he had taken from our little chest by the bedplace.

'"If I had known this," said Fulke, catching his breath, "I would never
have lifted hand against Pevensey. Only lack of this yellow stuff has
made me so unlucky in my dealings."

'It was dawn then, and they stirred in the Great Hall below. We sent
down Fulke's mail to be scoured, and when he rode away at noon under his
own and the King's banner, very splendid and stately did he show. He
smoothed his long beard, and called his son to his stirrup and kissed
him. De Aquila rode with him as far as the New Mill landward. We thought
the night had been all a dream.'