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Updated: September 11, 2025
"My lord," said Sir Daniel, "have I not told you of this knave Black Arrow? To the proof, behold it! There it stands, and, by the rood, my gossip, in a man of yours, or one that stole your colours!" "In good sooth, it was a man of mine," replied Lord Shoreby, hanging back. "I would I had more such. He was keen as a beagle and secret as a mole." "Ay, gossip, truly?" asked Sir Daniel, keenly.
"I pray Heaven that Capper make good speed!" said Dick. "I vow a candle to St. Mary of Shoreby if he come before the hour!" "Y' are in a hurry, Master Dick?" asked Greensheve. "Ay, good fellow," answered Dick; "for in that house lieth my lady, whom I love, and who should these be that lie about her secretly by night? Unfriends, for sure!"
And not only was the town of Shoreby a mere net of peril for their lives, but to make for the open country was to run the risk of the patrols. A little way off, upon some open ground, they spied a windmill standing; and hard by that, a very large granary with open doors. "How if we lay there until the night fall?" Dick proposed.
The noise of their passage had scarce begun to die away towards Shoreby, before fresh hoofs came echoing in their wake, and another deserter clattered down the road; this time a single rider and, by his splendid armour, a man of high degree. Close after him there followed several baggage-waggons, fleeing at an ungainly canter, the drivers flailing at the horses as if for life.
But Jack ashore was a bad runner, even in the fifteenth century, and Dick, besides, had a start, which he rapidly improved, until, as he drew near the entrance of a narrow lane, he even paused and looked laughingly behind him. Upon the white floor of snow, all the shipmen of Shoreby came clustering in an inky mass, and tailing out rearward in isolated clumps.
In itself, it was impotent, for he made sure no seaman in the port could run him down. But the mere volume of noise, in so far as it must awake all the sleepers in Shoreby and bring all the skulking sentries to the street, did really threaten him with danger in the front.
The service of watching Sir Daniel's movements in the town of Shoreby had from the first been irksome to their temper, and they had of late begun to grumble loudly and threaten to disperse. The prospect of a sharp encounter and possible spoils restored them to good humour, and they joyfully prepared for battle.
And one of his retainers led up a poor, cringing old man, as pale as a candle, and all shaking with the fen fever. "Sirrah," said Sir Daniel, "your name?" "An't please your worship," replied the man, "my name is Condall Condall of Shoreby, at your good worship's pleasure." "I have heard you ill reported on," returned the knight.
But this sudden encounter reminded him sharply of the high-handed manner and ill-ending of his enterprise; and both he and Lawless turned their heads the other way, to avoid the chance of recognition. The ship's dog had, however, made his escape from the wreck and found his way back again to Shoreby.
"'Seize me, saith he, 'that Tyndal of Shoreby." "Condall, my good lord; Condall is my poor name," said the unfortunate. "Condall or Tyndal, it is all one," replied Sir Daniel, coolly. "For, by my sooth, y' are here and I do mightily suspect your honesty. If ye would save your neck, write me swiftly an obligation for twenty pound." "For twenty pound, my good lord!" cried Condall.
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