“Gallants of England ,” said Front-de-Boeuf, “how relish ye your entertainment at Torquilstone?⁠—Are ye yet aware what your surquedy and outrecuidance 30 merit, for scoffing at the entertainment of a prince of the House of Anjou?⁠—Have ye forgotten how ye requited the unmerited hospitality of the royal John? By God and St. Dennis, an ye pay not the richer ransom, I will hang ye up by the feet from the iron bars of these windows, till the kites and hooded crows have made skeletons of you!⁠—Speak out, ye Saxon dogs⁠—what bid ye for your worthless lives?⁠—How say you, you of Rotherwood ?”

“Not a doit I,” answered poor Wamba⁠—“and for hanging up by the feet, my brain has been topsy-turvy, they say, ever since the biggin was bound first round my head; so turning me upside down may peradventure restore it again.”

“Saint Genevieve!” said Front-de-Boeuf, “what have we got here?”

And with the back of his hand he struck Cedric’s cap from the head of the Jester, and throwing open his collar, discovered the fatal badge of servitude, the silver collar round his neck.

“Giles⁠—Clement⁠—dogs and varlets!” exclaimed the furious Norman, “what have you brought me here?”

“I think I can tell you,” said De Bracy, who just entered the apartment. “This is Cedric’s clown, who fought so manful a skirmish with Isaac of York about a question of precedence.”