of so noble a spirit, that I fear me that I shall never
be worthy of her."

"By thinking so you become worthy. Is she then of noble birth?"

"She is, my lord," faltered Alleyne.

"Of a knightly house?"

"Yes."

"Have a care, Alleyne, have a care!" said Sir Nigel, kindly. "The higher
the steed the greater the fall. Hawk not at that which may be beyond thy
flight."

"My lord, I know little of the ways and usages of the world," cried
Alleyne, "but I would fain ask your rede upon the matter. You have known
my father and my kin: is not my family one of good standing and repute?"

"Beyond all question."

"And yet you warn me that I must not place my love too high."

"Were Minstead yours, Alleyne, then, by St. Paul! I cannot think that
any family in the land would not be proud to take you among them, seeing
that you come of so old a strain. But while the Socman lives----Ha, by
my soul! if this is not Sir Oliver's step I am the more mistaken."

As he spoke, a heavy footfall was heard without, and the portly knight
flung open the door and strode into the room.

"Why, my little coz," said he, "I have come across to tell you that
I live above the barber's in the Rue de la Tour, and that there is a
venison pasty in the oven and two flasks of the right vintage on the
table. By St. James! a blind man might find the place, for one has but
to get in the wind from it, and follow the savory smell. Put on your
cloak, then, and come, for Sir Walter Hewett and Sir Robert Briquet,
with one or two others, are awaiting us."

"Nay, Oliver, I cannot be with you, for I must to Montaubon this day."

"To Montaubon? But I have heard that your Company is to come with my
forty Winchester rascals to Dax."

"If you will take charge of them, Oliver. For I will go to Montaubon
with none save my two squires and two archers. Then, when I have found
the rest of my Company I shall lead them to Dax. We set forth this
morning."

"Then I must back to my pasty," said Sir Oliver. "You will find us at
Dax, I doubt not, unless the prince throw me into prison, for he is very
wroth against me."

"And why, Oliver?"

"Pardieu! because I have sent my cartel, gauntlet, and defiance to Sir
John Chandos and to Sir William Felton."

"To Chandos? In God's name, Oliver, why have you done this?"

"Because he and the other have used me despitefully."

"And how?"

"Because they have passed me over in choosing those who should joust for
England. Yourse