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Updated: July 21, 2025
It is death itself I would cheat. What odds to exchange one form for another? Is there no way out of this? Is there no way, Sir Crispin?" he demanded with clenched hands. "The approach of death makes you maudlin, sir," quoth the other, in whom this pitiful show of fear produced a profound disgust. "Is there no way; say you?
"You have been in error, sir, touching your parentage," quoth he bluntly. "Alan Stewart, of Bailienochy, was not your father." Kenneth looked from one to the other of them. "Sirs, is this a jest?" he cried, reddening. Then, remarking at length the solemnity of their countenances, he stopped short. Crispin came close up to him, and placed a hand upon his shoulder.
"You shall sleep where you list, sir," answered Gregory, and they rose. "Do you look to honour us long at Castle Marleigh, Sir Crispin?" was Gregory's last question before separating from his guest. "Nay, sir, 'tis likely I shall go hence to-morrow," answered Crispin, unmindful of what he said. "I trust not," said Gregory, in accents of relief that belied him.
"I asked you," the Irishman persisted, "whether your son was worth the sacrifice that the vile deed you contemplate entails?" Crispin shook his arm from the other's grip, and rose abruptly. He crossed to the window, and drew back the curtain. "Day is breaking," said he gruffly. Then turning, and facing Hogan across the room, "I have pledged my word to Jocelyn," he said.
"I swear, by my honour, my faith, and my every hope of heaven to lend you my aid, when and how you may demand it, until your task be accomplished." Crispin took the Bible from the boy's hands, and replaced it on the table. His lips were pressed tight, and he avoided the lad's eyes. "You shall not find me wanting in my part of the bargain," he muttered, as he took up the soldier's cloak and hat.
And by my soul, I know no greater spur to make a man cling to life. Ah," he sighed wistfully, "if indeed I could find a way." "Think, Sir Crispin, think," cried the boy feverishly. "To what purpose? There is the window. But even if the bars were moved, which I see no manner of accomplishing, the drop to the river is seventy feet at least. I measured it with my eyes when first we entered here.
It is matter for conjecture whether her loathing for Gregory would have been as intense as it was, had another than Crispin Galliard been his victim. Her life seemed at an end as she sat that October evening on the cliffs.
With a sad smile, Hogan advanced, and set his hand affectionately upon Galliard's shoulder. "Welcome to France, Crispin," said he. "If not him whom you looked to find, you have at least a loyal friend to greet you." "Hogan!" gasped the knight. "What make you here? How came you here? Where is Jocelyn?" The Irishman looked at him gravely for a moment, then sighed and sank down upon a chair.
It was in fair fight he fell. Moreover, he brought the duel upon himself." Crispin spoke no word in answer, but rose unsteadily to his feet, so unsteadily that his chair was overset and fell with a crash behind him. For a moment he surveyed it with a drunken leer, then went lurching across the hall towards the door that led to the servants' quarters.
And forthwith Gregory told him of the manner of Kenneth's coming to Sheringham and to Castle Marleigh, accompanied by one Crispin Galliard, the same that had been known for his mad exploits in the late wars as "rakehelly Galliard," and that was now known to the malignants as "The Tavern Knight" for his debauched habits.
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