’"Thy only son!” said De Aquila.  “Why didst thou bring the child here?”

’"He is my heir.  I dared not trust him to my brother,” said Fulke, and now he was ashamed.  De Aquila said nothing, but sat weighing a wine cup in his two hands—­thus.  Anon, Fulke touched him on the knee.

’"Let the boy escape to Normandy,” said he, “and do with me at thy pleasure.  Yea, hang me tomorrow, with my letter to Robert round my neck, but let the boy go.”

’"Be still,” said De Aquila.  “I think for England.”

’So we waited what our Lord of Pevensey should devise; and the sweat ran down Fulke’s forehead.

’At last said De Aquila:  “I am too old to judge, or to trust any man.  I do not covet thy lands, as thou hast coveted mine; and whether thou art any better or any worse than any other black Angevin thief, it is for thy King to find out.  Therefore, go back to thy King, Fulke.”

’"And thou wilt say nothing of what has passed?” said Fulke.

’"Why should I?  Thy son will stay with me.  If the King calls me again to leave Pevensey, which I must guard against England’s enemies; if the King sends his men against me for a traitor; or if I hear that the King in his bed thinks any evil of me or my two knights, thy son will be hanged from out this window, Fulke."’

‘But it hadn’t anything to do with his son,’ cried Una, startled.

‘How could we have hanged Fulke?’ said Sir Richard.  ’We needed him to make our peace with the King.  He would have betrayed half England for the boy’s sake.  Of that we were sure.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Una.  ‘But I think it was simply awful.’

‘So did not Fulke.  He was well pleased.’

‘What?  Because his son was going to be killed?’

’Nay.  Because De Aquila had shown him how he might save the boy’s life and his own lands and honours.  “I will do it,” he said.  “I swear I will do it.  I will tell the King thou art no traitor, but the most excellent, valiant, and perfect of us all.  Yes, I will save thee.”

’De Aquila looked still into the bottom of the cup, rolling the wine-dregs to and fro.

’"Ay,” he said.  “If I had a son, I would, I think, save him.  But do not by any means tell me how thou wilt go about it.”

’"Nay, nay,” said Fulke, nodding his bald head wisely.  “That is my secret.  But rest at ease, De Aquila, no hair of thy head nor rood of thy land shall be forfeited,” and he smiled like one planning great good deeds.

’"And henceforward,” said De Aquila, “I counsel thee to serve one master—­not two.”

’"What?” said Fulke.  “Can I work no more honest trading between the two sides these troublous times?”

’"Serve Robert or the King—­England or Normandy,” said De Aquila.  “I care not which it is, but make thy choice here and now.”

’"The King, then,” said Fulke, “for I see he is better served than Robert.  Shall I swear it?”