None was afforded him by his fellow-revellers, who one and all hung back in silence.
Seeing himself thus unsupported, and far from wishing to try conclusions with Galliard, Tyler with an ill grace surrendered the paper; and, with a pleasant bow and a word of thanks, delivered with never so slight a saturnine smile, Crispin turned on his heel and left the tavern as abruptly as he had entered it.
The din it was that had attracted him as he passed by on his way to the Episcopal Palace where a part of his company was on guard duty.

Thither he now pursued his way, bearing with him the letter which so opportunely he had become possessed of, and which he hoped might throw further light upon Kenneth's relations with the Ashburns.
But as he reached the palace there was a quick step behind him, and a hand fell upon his arm.

He turned.
"Ah, 'tis you, Kenneth," he muttered, and would have passed on, but the boy's hand took him by the sleeve.
"Sir Crispin," said he, "I came to thank you." "I have done nothing to deserve your thanks.

Give you good evening." And he made shift to mount the steps when again Kenneth detained him.
"You are forgetting the letter, Sir Crispin," he ventured, and he held out his hand to receive it.
Galliard saw the gesture, and for a moment it crossed his mind in self-reproach that the part he chose to play was that of a bully.

A second he hesitated.