Have your will, child, if the boy also wills it, Montfichet answered, feeling too ill to oppose anything very strongly just then. He made an effort to hide his condition from them all, and Robin felt his fingers tighten upon his arm. Beg me a room of the sheriff, child, quickly. But who is this fellow plucking at your sleeve? He is my esquire, excellency, returned Robin with dignity. Mistress FitzOoth had been carried off by the sheriff's daughter and her maids as soon as they had entered the house, so that Robin alone had the care of Montfichet. Robin was glad when at length they were left to their own devices. The wine did certainly bring back the colour to the squire's cheeks. These escapades are not for old Gamewell, lad, his day has come to twilight. Will you forgive me now? It'll be no disappointment to me. No thanks, I am glad to give you such easy happiness. You are a worthy leech, will presently whispered Robin. The wine has worked a marvel. Ay, and show you some pretty tricks. Young FitzOoth had been commanded to his mother's chamber so soon as he had come out from his converse with the squire. There befell an anxious interview, Mistress FitzOoth arguing for and against the squire's project in a breath. Most of all Robin thought of his father. What would he counsel? If for a whim you begger yourself, I cannot stay you. But take it whilst I live, and wear Montfichet's shield in the days when my eyes can be rejoiced by so brave a sight, for you will ne'er disgrace our duchain, I warrant me. The lad had checked him then. Never that, sir, he had said. He was in deep converse with the clerk and entered the hall holding him by the arm. Now to bed, boy, tis late, and I go myself within a short space. Dismiss your squire, Robin, and bid me good e'en.