Complaint was
heard on every side. One declared his armor had been used, another that
his spear had been taken. Young Blount, Marmion's second squire, found
his steed covered with foam, though the stable boy swore he had left the
beautiful creature well groomed on the previous evening.
While the impatient squire raged and fumed, old Hubert cried:
"Ho, comrades, help! Bevis lies dying in his stall! To our lord this
will bring sorrow indeed. Who will dare tell him of the horse he loved
so well?"
Fitz-Eustace, who knew of the midnight ride, of the condition of horse
and rider on their return, offered to bear the unwelcome message.
Marmion, sitting plunged in deep thought, received the tidings unmoved,
gave little attention, passed the matter as if it were a mere accident
and ordered the clarions sound "To horse."
Young Blount was less easily dealt with. He declared he would pay no fee
for food or care. Man or demon, he said, had ridden his steed all night
and left him in sorry condition for the day's journey. Marmion gave the
signal to set forth, and led by the calm, gloomy Palmer, they journeyed
all the morning.
Who can picture the thoughts of Palmer and of knight? Could one have
looked beneath the Palmer's cowl there might have been seen a smile
almost sardonic playing upon his features.
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