re lance, and place my harness on the sumpter mule."

With these brief directions, the two old soldiers strode off together,
while Alleyne hastened to get all in order for their journey.

CHAPTER XXVI. HOW THE THREE COMRADES GAINED A MIGHTY TREASURE

It was a bright, crisp winter's day when the little party set off from
Bordeaux on their journey to Montaubon, where the missing half of their
Company had last been heard of. Sir Nigel and Ford had ridden on in
advance, the knight upon his hackney, while his great war-horse trotted
beside his squire. Two hours later Alleyne Edricson followed; for he had
the tavern reckoning to settle, and many other duties which fell to him
as squire of the body. With him came Aylward and Hordle John, armed
as of old, but mounted for their journey upon a pair of clumsy Landes
horses, heavy-headed and shambling, but of great endurance, and capable
of jogging along all day, even when between the knees of the huge
archer, who turned the scale at two hundred and seventy pounds. They
took with them the sumpter mules, which carried in panniers the wardrobe
and table furniture of Sir Nigel; for the knight, though neither fop nor
epicure, was very dainty in small matters, and loved, however bare the
board or hard the life, that his napery should still be white and his
spoon of silver.

There had been frost during the night, and the white hard road rang loud
under their horses' irons as they spurred through the east gate of the
town, along the same broad highway which the unknown French champion
had traversed on the day of the jousts. The three rode abreast, Alleyne
Edricson with his eyes cast down and his mind distrait, for his thoughts
were busy with the conversation which he had had with Sir Nigel in the
morning. Had he done well to say so much, or had he not done better to
have said more? What would the knight have said had he confessed to his
love for the Lady Maude? Would he cast him off in disgrace, or might he
chide him as having abused the shelter of his roof? It had been ready
upon his tongue to tell him all when Sir Oliver had broken in upon them.
Perchance Sir Nigel, with his love of all the dying usages of chivalry,
might have contrived some strange ordeal or feat of arms by which his
love should be put to the test. Alleyne smiled as he wondered what
fantastic and wondrous deed would be exacted from him. Whatever it was,
he was ready for it, whether it were to hold the lists in