Lancaster made no further comment, and the two knights, who but a few minutes before had been engaged in deadly strife, now made their way together through the heaps of the dying and the dead, through many a group of rude soldiery, who scowled on Nigel with no friendly eye, for they only recognized him as the destroyer of hundreds of their countrymen, not the chivalric champion who had won the enthusiastic admiration of their leaders, and soon found themselves in the castle-hall, in the presence of the Earl of Hereford, who was surrounded by his noblest officers, Sir Christopher and Lady Seaton, and some few other Scottish prisoners, most of whom were badly wounded.  He advanced to meet Sir Nigel, courteously, though gravely.

“It grieves me,” he said, “to receive as a prisoner a knight of such high renown and such chivalric bearing as Sir Nigel Bruce; I would he had kept those rare qualities for the sovereign to whom they were naturally due, and who would have known how to have appreciated and honor them, rather than shed such lustre on so weak a cause.”

“Does your lordship regard the freedom of an oppressed country so weak a cause?” replied Nigel, the hot blood mounting to his cheek; “the rising in defence of a rightful king, in lieu of slavishly adhering to one, who, though so powerful, all good men, aye, even all good Englishmen, must look on, in his claims to Scotland, as an ambitious usurper.  My lord, my lord, the spirit of Hereford spoke not in those words; but I forgive them, for I have much for which to proffer thanks unto the noble Hereford, much, that his knightly soul scorned treachery and gave us a fair field.  Durance is but a melancholy prospect, yet an it must be I would not nobler captors.”

“Nor would I forfeit the esteem in which you hold me, gallant sir,” replied the earl, “and therefore do I pray you, command my services in aught that can pleasure you, and an it interfere not with my duty to my sovereign, I shall be proud to give them.  Speak, I pray you.”

“Nay, I can ask naught which the Earl of Hereford hath not granted of himself,” said Sir Nigel.  “I would beseech you to extend protection to all the females of this unhappy castle; to part not my sister from her lord, for, as you see, his wounds and weakness call for woman’s care; to grant the leech’s aid to those who need it; and if there be some unhappy men of my faithful troop remaining, I would beseech you show mercy unto them, and let them go free—­they can work no further ill to Edward; they can fight no more for Scotland, for she lieth chained; they have no head and therefore no means of resistance—­I beseech you give them freedom unshackled by conditions.”

“It shall be, it shall be,” replied Hereford, hastily, and evidently moved; “but for thyself, young sir, thyself, can we do naught for thee?”