would long since have been picked by my cousins, the Spanish wolves.
But let the gold tarry in your keeping: it were better King Edward's
good crowns should not be, after all else that has been, in my hands."

"But, Gaston, you will need fitting out for the service of Sir William
Beauchamp."

"What! What mean you, Sir Eustace?" cried Gaston. "What have I done
that you should dismiss me from your followers?"

"Nay, kind Gaston, it were shame that so finished a Squire should be
bound down by my poverty to be the sole follower of a banner which will
never again be displayed at the head of such a band as the Lances of
Lynwood."

"No, Sir Eustace, I leave you not. Recall your brother's words, 'Go
not back to old ways and comrades,' quoth he; and if you cast me off,
what else is left for me? for having once served a banneret, no other
shall have my service. Where else should I find one who would care a
feather whether I am dead or alive? So there it ends--put up your
pieces, or rather, give me one wherewith to purvey a new bridle for
Brigliador, for the present is far from worthy of his name."

Accordingly, the Gascon Squire still remained attached to Eustace's
service, while the trusty Englishman, John Ingram, performed the more
menial offices. Time sped away at the court of Bordeaux; the gallant
Du Guesclin was restored to liberty, after twice paying away his ransom
for the deliverance of his less renowned brethren in captivity, and
Enrique of Trastamare, returning to Castile, was once more crowned by
the inhabitants. His brother Pedro, attempting to assassinate him,
fell by his hand, and all the consequences of the English expedition
were undone--all, save the wasting disease that preyed on England's
heir, and the desolation at the orphaned hearth of Lynwood Keep.

CHAPTER VIII

Two years had passed since the fight of Navaretta, when Sir Eustace
Lynwood received, by the hands of a Knight newly arrived from England,
a letter from Father Cyril, praying him to return home as soon as
possible, since his sister-in-law, Dame Eleanor, was very sick, and
desired to see him upon matters on which more could not be disclosed by
letter.

Easily obtaining permission to leave Bordeaux, he travelled safely
through France, and crossing from Brittany, at length found himself
once more in Somersetshire. It was late, and fast growing dark, when
he rode through Bruton; but, eager to arrive, he pushed on, though
twil