"
"Yet it may be as well that you should know whither we go," said
the archer. "We shall now journey south through the woods until
we come out upon the Christchurch road, and so onwards, hoping
to-night to reach the castle of Sir William Montacute, Earl of
Salisbury, of which Sir Nigel Loring is constable. There we
shall bide, and it is like enough that for a month or more you
may find us there, ere we are ready for our viage back to
France."
It was hard indeed for Alleyne to break away from these two new
but hearty friends, and so strong was the combat between his
conscience and his inclinations that he dared not look round,
lest his resolution should slip away from him. It was not until
he was deep among the tree trunks that he cast a glance
backwards, when he found that he could still see them through the
branches on the road above him. The archer was standing with
folded arms, his bow jutting from over his shoulder, and the sun
gleaming brightly upon his head-piece and the links of his
chain-mail. Beside him stood his giant recruit, still clad in
the home-spun and ill-fitting garments of the fuller of
Lymington, with arms and legs shooting out of his scanty garb.
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