brief and triumphant campaign in terse and soldier-like fashion.

Meantime Raymond sat at ease in the corner of a deep settle beside the
fire, leaning back against the soft fur rug which draped it, unable to
eat through very weariness, but eagerly interested in all the news his
uncle was hearing from John.

Master Bernard had to push on to London that night. He and his companion
had landed at Southampton the previous day, and had taken Guildford upon
their way to the capital. There Raymond was to remain under the kindly
care of John; and as soon as the Rector had set off with fresh horses
and his own retinue of servants, his nephew turned eagerly back to the
hall, where his cousin was still resting, and taking him warmly by the
hands, gazed into his face with a glance of the most friendly and
affectionate solicitude.

"Good my cousin, I have scarce had time to bid thee welcome yet, but I
do so now with all my heart. It is as a cousin I am to receive and treat
thee? What meant my good uncle by that? Hast thou told him what I myself
know? Methought he spoke like one with a purpose."

"Yes, it is true that he knows," answered Raymond; "but he counsels us
to keep our secret awhile longer. He thinks, as does Gaston, that we
were wiser first to win our way to greater fame and fortune than mere
boys can hope to do, and then to stand revealed as those sprung from a
noble line. How came he to know? That I will tell thee when I am
something rested. But I am so weary with our journey that I scarce know
how to frame my thoughts in fitting words. Yet I am glad to see thy face
again, good John. I have been wearying long for a sight of thee."

"Thou art indeed sadly changed thyself, my cousin," said John. "In
truth, men who go to these wars go with their lives in their hands. Was
it on the glorious field of Crecy that thou receivedst some hurt? Sure
thou hast been sore wounded. But thou shalt tell me all thy tale anon,
when thou art something rested and refreshed."

The tale was told that same evening, when, after Raymond had slept for a
few hours and had been able then to partake of some food, he felt, in
part at least, recovered from the fatigues of the long ride from the
coast, and could recline at ease beside the glowing fire, and talk to
John of all that had befallen him since they had parted two and a half
years before.

The account of the victory at Crecy was eagerly listened to, and also
that of the subsequent march u