"Ye but deride me," answered Matcham. "These men
ye go to succour are the same that hunt me to my ruin."

Dick scratched his head.

"I cannot help it, Jack," he said. "Here is no remedy.
What would ye? Ye run no great peril, man; and these
are in the way of death. Death!" he added. "Think
of it! What a murrain do ye keep me here for? Give
me the windac. Saint George! shall they all die?"

" Richard Shelton," said Matcham, looking him squarely
in the face, "would ye, then, join party with Sir Daniel?
Have ye not ears? Heard ye not this Ellis, what he said?
or have ye no heart for your own kindly blood and the
father that men slew? ' Harry Shelton,' he said; and Sir
Harry Shelton was your father, as the sun shines in
heaven."

"What would ye?" Dick cried again. "Would ye
have me credit thieves?"

"Nay, I have heard it before now," returned Matcham.
"The fame goeth currently, it was Sir Daniel slew him.
He slew him under oath; in his own house he shed the
innocent blood. Heaven wearies for the avenging on't;
and you--the man's son--ye go about to comfort and de-
fend the murderer!"

" Jack," cried the lad, "I know not. It may be; what
know I? But, see here: This man hath bred me up and
fostered me, and his men I have hunted with and played
among; and to leave them in the hour of peril--O, man,
if I did that, I were stark dead to honour! Nay, Jack,

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