From here to Rome , Fulke , men will make very merry over that tale , and how Fulke told it , hanging in a well , like a drowned puppy . This shall be thy punishment , if ever I find thee double-dealing with thy King any more . Meantime , the parchments stay here with thy son . Him I will return to thee when thou hast made my peace with the King . The parchments never . '' ` Fulke hid his face and groaned . ' `` Bones of the Saints ! '' said De Aquila , laughing . `` The pen cuts deep . I could never have fetched that grunt out of thee with any sword . '' ' `` But so long as I do not anger thee , my tale will be secret ? '' said Fulke . ' `` Just so long . Does that comfort thee , Fulke ? '' said De Aquila . ' `` What other comfort have ye left me ? '' he said , and of a sudden he wept hopelessly like a child , dropping his face on his knees . ' ` Poor Fulke , ' said Una . ' I pitied him also , ' said Sir Richard . ' `` After the spur , corn , '' said De Aquila , and he threw Fulke three wedges of gold that he had taken from our little chest by the bedplace . '
`` If I had known this , '' said XXXXX , catching his breath , `` I would never have lifted hand against Pevensey .
Aquila Fulke Richard Rome Una bedplace drowned left parchments wedges