sadly vexed to think that her side commanded so poor a champion. Sir
Blaise tried to speak, gasped out a furious "Sir!" then his passion
choked him, and he gobbled, inarticulate and grotesque. Evander went
composedly on:

"He is rated a King's man, and would serve his master well if much
tippling of healths and clearing of trenchers were yeoman service in
a time of war. But his sword sleeps in its sheath."

"Now, by St. George--" Sir Blaise yelled, raising his clinched fists.
Brilliana feared at one moment that he would strike her prisoner in
the face; feared in the next that he would fall at her feet dead of
an apoplexy. She sailed between the antagonists and addressed
Evander.

"Serious sir, will it dash you to learn that you are speaking to Sir
Blaise Mickleton?"

Evander's countenance showed no sign either of surprise or of dismay.
Sir Blaise, still turkey-red, managed to gulp down his choler
sufficiently to utter some syllables.

"I am that knight," he gasped; then, turning to Brilliana, he
whispered behind his hand, "Mark now how this bear will climb down."

Brilliana, watching Evander, was not confident of apologies. Her
prisoner made a slight inclination of the head towards Sir Blaise in
acknowledgment of the fact of Brilliana's presentation, and said,
very calmly:

"Why, then, sir, such a jury as your world has empanelled have
misread you, for if they summed your flaws aptly in their report of
you, they clapped this rider on their staggering verdict, that Sir
Blaise Mickleton did, at his worst, do his best to play the
gentleman."

Smiles of satisfaction rippled over Sir Blaise's face. He did not
follow the drift of Evander's fluency but took it for compliment.

"Handsomely apologized, i' faith," he beamed to Brilliana. Brilliana
laughed in his face.

"Why, poor man, he flouts you worse than ever," she whispered.

Sir Blaise knitted puzzled brows while Evander, having made the
effective pause, continued, suavely:

"In the which judgment they erred, for he does not merit so
creditable a praise. Sure they can never have seen him who couple in
any way the name of Sir Blaise Mickleton with the title of
gentleman."

Even Sir Blaise's dulness could not misinterpret Evander's meaning,
and rage resumed its sway.

"You crow! You kite!" he fumed. His wrath could find no more words,
but he made a stride towards Evander, menacing. Brilliana stepped
dexterously between the two. As she told Tiffany later