Give you good night!" The lad rose.

A moment he paused, hesitating, then-- "To-morrow, Sir Crispin--" he began.

But Crispin cut him short.
"Leave to-morrow till it dawn, my friend.

Give you good night.

Take one of those noisome tapers with you, and go." In sullen silence the boy took up one of the candle-bearing bottles and passed out through the door leading to the stairs.
For a moment Crispin remained standing by the table, and in that moment the expression of his face was softened.