er this matter of the ladies in which you and Squire
Loring have fallen out. And now the time?"

"At once."

"Surely at once, or perchance a second messenger may come and this also
be forbidden. We will be ready with to-morrow's sunrise."

"Nay, a day later," cried the Breton Squire. "Bethink you, my lord, that
the three lances of Radenac would take time to come over."

"They are not of our garrison, and they shall not have a place."

"But, fair sir, of all the lances of Brittany--"

"Nay, William, I will not have it an hour later. To-morrow it shall be,
Richard."

"And where?"

"I marked a fitting place even as I rode here this evening. If you cross
the river and take the bridle-path through the fields which leads to
Josselin you come midway upon a mighty oak standing at the corner of a
fair and level meadow. There let us meet at midday to-morrow."

"Agreed!" cried Bambro'. "But I pray you not to rise, Robert! The night
is still young and the spices and hippocras will soon be served. Bide
with us, I pray you, for if you would fain hear the latest songs from
England, these gentlemen have doubtless brought them. To some of us
perchance it is the last night, so we would make it a full one."

But the gallant Breton shook his head. "It may indeed be the last night
for many," said he, "and it is but right that my comrades should know
it. I have no need of monk or friar, for I cannot think that harm will
ever come beyond the grave to one who has borne himself as a knight
should, but others have other thoughts upon these matters and would fain
have time for prayer and penitence. Adieu, fair sirs, and I drink a last
glass to a happy meeting at the midway oak."

XXIII. HOW THIRTY OF JOSSELIN ENCOUNTERED THIRTY OF PLOERMEL

All night the Castle of Ploermel rang with warlike preparations, for the
smiths were hammering and filing and riveting, preparing the armor for
the champions. In the stable yard hostlers were testing and grooming the
great war-horses, whilst in the chapel knights and squires were easing
their souls at the knees of old Father Benedict.

Down in the courtyard, meanwhile, the men-at-arms had been assembled,
and the volunteers weeded out until the best men had been selected.
Black Simon had obtained a place, and great was the joy which shone
upon his grim visage. With him were chosen young Nicholas Dagsworth, a
gentleman adventurer who was nephew to the famous Sir Thomas, Walter the
German,