case one fine morning in early spring, a few months
after the loss of his mother.

The four pages were in the tilt yard, where there stood a wooden
figure, called a "quintain," which turned round upon an axis, and
held a wooden sword in one hand and a buckler in the other.

It was the duty of each of the athletes to mount his horse, and
strike the buckler full in the centre with his lance, while riding
by at full speed, under certain penalties, which will soon be
perceived.

Etienne rode first, and acquitted himself with remarkable
dexterity; after him Wilfred was invited by the maitre d'armes to
make the trial, but he was comparatively unaccustomed to the game.

"Let Pierre or Louis try next," said he.

The two boys, thus called upon, went through the trial fairly,
striking the very centre of the shield, as befitted them. And then
our Wilfred could not refuse to make the attempt. He rode, but his
horse swerved just before meeting the mock warrior; he struck the
shield, therefore, on one side, whereupon the figure wheeled round,
and, striking him with the wooden sword, hurled him from his horse
on to the sward, amidst the laughter of his companions.

He rose, not very much hurt in body, but sadly out of temper, and,
unable to bear the jeers of his companions, and their sarcastic
compliments on his "graceful horsemanship," he left the yard.

He was trying very hard to learn such feats, and yet could not gain
the dexterity for these novel exercises; and, poor boy, he was
quite weary of being laughed at, so he went and wandered pensively
about in the forest.

He had, indeed, to chew the cud of bitter reflection, for his
position was not at all a happy one. Few lads could have more to
bear--cutting sarcasm, biting contempt, not openly or coarsely
expressed, but always implied plainly enough--constant abuse of his
nation, and even of his own immediate ancestors, on whose fair
domains these Norman intruders were fattening.

"Oh! it is too hard to bear," thought the poor lad.

And then he saw the unfortunate thralls of his father, ground down
by the tyranny of these Norman lords and their soldiery, forced to
draw stone and timber, like beasts of burden, for the purpose of
building towers and dungeons for their oppressors, urged on with
the lash if they faltered.

Since the death of their good lady, all this had been, of course,
much worse.

And then, those forest laws, so vilely cruel. Wilfred saw men blind
w