In the courtyard Sir Rudolph had taken his post, with the captain of the mercenaries beside him, and the men-at-arms drawn up in order.  He smiled sardonically as Cuthbert entered.

“So, at last,” he said, “this farce is drawing to an end.  You are in my power, and for the means which I have taken to capture you, I will account to the prince.  You are a traitor to him; you have attacked and slaughtered many of my friends; you are an outlaw defying the law; and for each of these offenses your head is forfeited.”

“I deny,” Cuthbert said, standing before him, “your right to be my judge.  By my peers only can I be tried.  As a knight of England and as rightful lord of this castle, I demand to be brought before a jury of my equals.”

“I care nothing for rights or for juries,” said Sir Rudolph.  “I have the royal order for your execution, and that order I shall put into effect, although all the knights and barons in England objected.”

Cuthbert looked round to observe the exact position in which he was standing.  He knew, of course, every foot of the castle, and saw that but a short distance behind a single row of armed men was the staircase leading to the battlements.

“False and perjured knight,” he said, taking a step forward, “I may die; but I would rather a thousand deaths than such a life as yours will be when this deed is known in England.  But I am not yet dead.  For myself, I could pardon you; but for the outrage to my mother—­” and with a sudden movement he struck Sir Rudolph in the face with all his strength with his mailed hand.

With the blood gushing from his nostrils, the knight fell backward, and Sir Cuthbert, with a bound, before the assembly could recover from their astonishment at the deed, burst through the line of men-at-arms, and sprang up the narrow staircase.  A score of men-at-arms started in pursuit; but Sir Cuthbert gained the battlements first, and without a moment’s hesitation sprang upon them and plunged forward, falling into the moat fifty feet below.  Here he would have perished miserably, for in his heavy armor he was of course unable to swim a stroke, and his weight took him at once into the mud of the moat.  At its margin, however, Cnut stood awaiting him, with one end of the rope in his hand.  In an instant he plunged in, and diving to the bottom grasped Cuthbert by the body, and twisted the rope round him.  The two archers on the bank at once hauled upon it, and in a minute Sir Cuthbert was dragged to the bank.

By this time a crowd of men-at-arms appeared upon the battlements.  But as they did so the archers opened a storm of arrows upon them, and quickly compelled them to find shelter.  Carried by Cnut and the men with him—­for he was insensible—­Sir Cuthbert was quickly conveyed to the center of the outlaws, and these at once in a compact body began their retreat to the wood.  Cuthbert quickly recovered consciousness, and was soon able to walk.  As