ere almost over our heads, the hawk rose with incredible
swiftness above its prey, and dropped like a bolt of gray lightning upon
the heron. Then followed a struggle that lasted while the birds fell
three hundred feet. When within fifty feet of the ground the hawk
suddenly spread its wings and stood motionless in mid air, watching its
vanquished foe as it fell to a spot within ten yards of where we stood.
The movement of the falcon in descending to us can only be described as
a settling or gradual sinking, with outstretched, motionless wings. When
Max piped, the bird flew to its master's wrist and held down its beak
for the hood.

At the close of the battle, the gentlemen of our little audience clapped
their hands, and the ladies waved their kerchiefs. Max and I raised our
caps and reined our horses toward the main road. As we approached, the
ladies and one of the gentlemen resumed their journey toward Cambrai
Gate, but the others awaited us. When we reached them we found, to our
surprise, Duke Charles and my Lord d'Hymbercourt.

"Ah, it is our unknown knight who was so eager to fight Count Calli,"
exclaimed the duke.

"And still eager, Your Grace," answered Max. He uncovered upon
approaching the duke, but after a moment said, "By Your Grace's leave,"
and resumed his cap. I, of course, remained uncovered. The duke showed
surprise and irritation as he answered:--

"Since you do not see fit to tell us who you are, you should have the
grace to remain uncovered."

Max glanced quickly at the duke's face, and removed his cap, as he
answered, smiling:--

"If it pleases Your Grace, I will remain uncovered even though I be the
Pope himself."

The duke saw the humor of the situation and replied:--

"One who owns so noble a hawk may remain covered in any man's presence.
Never have I seen so rare a battle in mid air. The soul of Roland
himself must inhabit the bird."

"Will Your Grace accept the hawk?" Max asked.

"Gladly," answered the duke, "though I hesitate to deprive you of a bird
to which you must be attached."

"Do not hesitate to give me that pleasure, my lord," answered Max. "The
bird is yours. His name is Caesar. I will send him to the castle
this evening."

"Do not send him," suggested the duke. "Double your kindness by bringing
him to-morrow at the noon hour, after the morning audience. We must now
follow the princess. Adieu, messieurs."

The duke touched his cap, and we bent almost to our horses' manes