only his own esquire and two soldiers,—leaving four of the men to increase the little garrison,—and rode over the drawbridge and down the hill early the next morning when the inmates of the castle stood upon the threshold of the great gate, and waved to him as long as he was in sight.
Hugh of Cambray had parted with his master in the great hall, and had then gone away to his own room. He had been so many years with the baron that his grief over the parting overcame him. He was too old to form new attachments easily, and had been so long a campaigner that he preferred the open fields and the sky to life indoors. Therefore he closed the door of his little room, and betook himself to a vigorous overhauling of his arms and his armor. Every piece was polished until it shone like a mirror, and then all was replaced in military order. When this labor of love was finished, Hugh reluctantly left his room, and wandered out into the courtyard at a loss for something to do. He began to speculate on the chances for a stirring struggle, and even found himself wondering how it would do to organize an expedition against this Guy de Ferrers, in order to show him that taking castles was a game at which others than himself could play.
While he was thus attacking castles in the air, the young lord, Edgar Mortimer, came out of the
