In long strides he paced the chamber, turning the matter over
in his mind. Aye, he would use the lad should the need arise.
Why scruple? Had he ever received aught but disdain and scorn
at the hands of Kenneth.

Day was breaking ere he sought his bed, and already the sun was
up when at length he fell into a troubled sleep, vowing that he
would mend his wild ways and seek to gain the boy's favour
against the time when he might have need of him.

When later he restored the papers to Kenneth, explaining to
what use he had put the coat, he refrained from questioning him
concerning Gregory Ashburn. The docility of his mood on that
occasion came as a surprise to Kenneth, who set it down to Sir
Crispin's desire to conciliate him into silence touching the
harbouring of Hogan. In that same connexion Crispin showed him
calmly and clearly that he could not now inform without
involving himself to an equally dangerous extent. And partly
through the fear of this, partly won over by Crispin's
persuasions, the lad determined to hold his peace.

Nor had he cause to regret it thereafter, for throughout that
tedious march he found his roystering companion singularly meek
and kindly. Indeed he seemed a different man. His old swagger
and roaring bluster disappeared; he drank less, diced less,
blasphemed less, and stormed less than in the old days before
the halt at Penrith; but rode, a silent, thoughtful figure, so
self-contained and of so godly a mien as would have rejoiced
the heart of the sourest Puritan. The wild tantivy boy had
vanished, and the sobriquet of "Tavern Knight" was fast