"I speak to
thee in confidence, for surely thou art a worthy youth or thou wouldest
not be guest to the Canon Durdent. The king is the youngest and the
worst son of the wicked Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine, who is now, by the
mercy of God, dead. I could tell thee tales of the king's cruelty that
would affright thee, but I will not. He loveth to hunt in the Forest of
Sherwood, and therefore hath he castles and lodges hereabout, which he
doth frequent as it pleaseth him. And he hath ever had a liking for that
castle at Newark which our bishop of Lincoln, Alexander the Magnificent,
did build. I could tell thee tales of the dungeons there--knowest thou
what they be like?" And he paused and looked at Hugo, who was somewhat
pale, for the word "dungeon" had come to have a fearsome meaning to him.
"Nay," answered the boy, "I know not."
"Thou goest in the castle through a passage to the northwest corner,
where is a door which is guarded. Here is the solid rock; and inside
that door be two dungeons scooped out of it. No stair descendeth to
them. Those who occupy them at the king's will are lowered into them by
a rope, and there is no chance by which they may escape.
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