ain."

"If my hand is not hard, it is ready."

"Ready? Ready for what? For the hem of my lady's train?"

"Ready to chastise insolence, sir," cried Alleyne with hashing eyes.

"Sweet little coz!" answered the burly squire. "Such a dainty color!
Such a mellow voice! Eyes of a bashful maid, and hair like a three
years' babe! Voila!" He passed his thick fingers roughly through the
youth's crisp golden curls.

"You seek to force a quarrel, sir," said the young man, white with
anger.

"And what then?"

"Why, you do it like a country boor, and not like a gentle squire. Hast
been ill bred and as ill taught. I serve a master who could show you how
such things should be done."

"And how would he do it, O pink of squires?"

"He would neither be loud nor would he be unmannerly, but rather more
gentle than is his wont. He would say, 'Sir, I should take it as an
honor to do some small deed of arms against you, not for mine own glory
or advancement, but rather for the fame of my lady and for the upholding
of chivalry.' Then he would draw his glove, thus, and throw it on the
ground; or, if he had cause to think that he had to deal with a churl,
he might throw it in his face--as I do now!"

A buzz of excitement went up from the knot of squires as Alleyne, his
gentle nature turned by this causeless attack into fiery resolution,
dashed his glove with all his strength into the sneering face of his
antagonist. From all parts of the hall squires and pages came running,
until a dense, swaying crowd surrounded the disputants.

"Your life for this!" said the bully, with a face which was distorted
with rage.

"If you can take it," returned Alleyne.

"Good lad!" whispered Ford. "Stick to it close as wax."

"I shall see justice," cried Norbury, Sir Oliver's silent attendant.

"You brought it upon yourself, John Tranter," said the tall squire,
who had been addressed as Roger Harcomb. "You must ever plague the
new-comers. But it were shame if this went further. The lad hath shown a
proper spirit."

"But a blow! a blow!" cried several of the older squires. "There must be
a finish to this."

"Nay; Tranter first laid hand upon his head," said Harcomb. "How say
you, Tranter? The matter may rest where it stands?"

"My name is known in these parts," said Tranter, proudly, "I can let
pass what might leave a stain upon another. Let him pick up his glove
and say that he has done amiss."

"I would see him in the claws of the devil fir