lf and Audley I could pass, coz, for you are mature men;
but who are Wake, and Percy, and Beauchamp? By my soul! I was prodding
for my food into a camp-kettle when they were howling for their pap. Is
a man of my weight and substance to be thrown aside for the first three
half-grown lads who have learned the trick of the tilt-yard? But hark
ye, coz, I think of sending my cartel also to the prince."

"Oliver! Oliver! You are mad!"

"Not I, i' faith! I care not a denier whether he be prince or no. By
Saint James! I see that your squire's eyes are starting from his head
like a trussed crab. Well, friend, we are all three men of Hampshire,
and not lightly to be jeered at."

"Has he jeered at you than?"

"Pardieu! yes, 'Old Sir Oliver's heart is still stout,' said one of his
court. 'Else had it been out of keeping with the rest of him,' quoth the
prince. 'And his arm is strong,' said another. 'So is the backbone of
his horse,' quoth the prince. This very day I will send him my cartel
and defiance."

"Nay, nay, my dear Oliver," said Sir Nigel, laying his hand upon his
angry friend's arm. "There is naught in this, for it was but saying that
you were a strong and robust man, who had need of a good destrier. And
as to Chandos and Felton, bethink you that if when you yourself were
young the older lances had ever been preferred, how would you then have
had the chance to earn the good name and fame which you now bear? You do
not ride as light as you did, Oliver, and I ride lighter by the weight
of my hair, but it would be an ill thing if in the evening of our lives
we showed that our hearts were less true and loyal than of old. If such
a knight as Sir Oliver Buttesthorn may turn against his own prince for
the sake of a light word, then where are we to look for steadfast faith
and constancy?"

"Ah! my dear little coz, it is easy to sit in the sunshine and preach to
the man in the shadow. Yet you could ever win me over to your side with
that soft voice of yours. Let us think no more of it then. But, holy
Mother! I had forgot the pasty, and it will be as scorched as Judas
Iscariot! Come, Nigel, lest the foul fiend get the better of me again."

"For one hour, then; for we march at mid-day. Tell Aylward, Alleyne,
that he is to come with me to Montaubon, and to choose one archer for
his comrade. The rest will to Dax when the prince starts, which will be
before the feast of the Epiphany. Have Pommers ready at mid-day with my
sycamo