hered around me. 'Long live
our gracious Margravine!' they shouted 'long live the noble Mandeville!'

"'By my faith, Sir Knight,' said the Count Rudolf of Haggenhausen, an
old warrior whose seamed countenance was the record of many a fight--'By
my faith, I deemed not we could carry back such glorious tidings to our
lady--nor, by Saint Wladimir, so goodly a pledge!'

"'May I never put lance in rest again,' cried Conrad of the Thirty
Mountains, 'but the Margravine hath a good eye--there be thewes and
sinews there. But we must take order with yon infidel scum. How say you,
Sirs--shall this cavalier have the ordering of the battle? I, for one,
will gladly fight beneath his banner'----

"'And so say I,' said Chopinski, 'but he must not go thus. Yonder, on my
sumpter-mule, is a suit of Milan armour, which a king might wear upon
the day he went forth to do battle for his crown. Bring it forth,
knaves, and let the Mandeville be clad as becomes the affianced of our
mistress.'

"'Brave Chopinski,' I said, 'and you, kind sirs and nobles--pardon me if
I cannot thank you now in a manner befitting to the greatness of your
deserts. But there is a good time, I trust, in store. Suffer me now to
arm myself, and then we shall try the boasted prowess of yonder giant of
Kalbs-Braten!'

"In a few moments I was sheathed in steel, and, mounted on a splendid
charger, took my station at the head of the troops. Again their applause
was redoubled.

"'Lord Conrad,' said I to the warrior of the Thirty Mountains, 'swart
Slavata has gone up yonder with a plump of lances, intending to cross
the morass, and assail us on the rear. Be it thine to hold him in
check."

"'By my father's head!' cried Conrad, 'I ask no better service! That
villain, Slavata, oweth me a life, for he slew my sister's son at
disadvantage, and this day will I have it or die. Fear not for the rear,
noble Mandeville--I will protect it while spear remains or armour holds
together!'

"'I doubt it not, valiant Conrad! Brave Chopinski--noble
Haggenhausen--let us now charge together! 'Tis not beneath my banner you
fight. The Blue Boar of Mandeville never yet fluttered in the Wallachian
breeze, but we may give it to the winds ere-long! Sacred to Amalia, and
not to me, be the victory! Advance the Red Falcon of Kalbs-Kuchen--let
it strike terror into the hearts of the enemy--and forward as it pounces
upon its prey!'

"With visors down and lances in rest we rushed upon the advanci