"Ah! with an axe say'st thou, sir Bailiff?"
"O most infallibly an axe, messire--a ponderous axe with haft the length of this my leg. A vilely tall, base, and most unseemly dog that hath spoiled me of my lord's sweet money-bags, wherefore I yearn to see him wriggle in a noose. To the which end I journey in these my rags, unto my lord Duke on Barham Broom, with tale of wrong and outrage most abominable."
"And dared they rob thee indeed?" quoth Beltane, "and thou my lord Duke's High Steward and Bailiff of the Marches! Come, sit ye down and tell me of the matter--and Roger, methinks he shall talk the better an thou keep thy fingers farther from his wind-pipe."
So down sat they together round the fire, and, what time the little buxom man viewed Beltane 'twixt stealthy lids from golden spur to open bascinet, the Bailiff fell to his tale, as followeth: "Know then, good and noble sir knight, that I sat me, but two days since, in right fair and goodly estate, my lackeys to hand, my men-at-arms at my back (twenty tall fellows). I sat me thus, I say, within the square at Winisfarne, whither, by sound of trumpet, I had summoned me the knavish townsfolk to pay into my hand my lord Duke's rightful dues and taxes, which folk it is my custom to call upon by name and one by one. When lo! of a sudden, and all uncalled, comes me a great, tall fellow, this same black-avised knave, and forthwith seized him one of my lord's great money-bags, and when I would have denied him, set me his axe beneath my very nose. Thereafter took he the bags all three and scattered (O hateful--hateful sight!) my lord's good monies among the base rabblement. And, when my lusty fellows sought to apprehend me this rogue, he smote them dolefully and roared in hideous fashion 'Arise-- Pentavalon!' And straightway, at this lewd shout, forth of the crowd leapt many other rogues bedight as gentle knights in noble mail, cap-à-pie, and fell upon us and smote us dire, and stripped me of my goodly apparel, and drave me forth of the town with stripes and blows and laughter most ungentle. So here sit I, poor Guido, Steward and Bailiff of the Marches, in most vile estate, very full of woe yet, alack, empty of belly."
"But," says Beltane, shaking his head, "within thy pouch, methinks, a blind man's money."
"How--a blind man?" gasped the Bailiff, "a blind man's monies, say'st thou? Nay messire, in very truth."
"Search him, Roger."
Hereupon Roger, having straightway choked him to silence with the one hand full soon had found the money with the other, and thereafter, he loosed the Bailiff that he might get his breath again; the which he no sooner had done than he fell to prayers and humble entreaties: "Sir knight--right noble sir, sure thou wilt not take thus from a woeful wight all that he hath."