ults. Ignorance, obstinacy, and pride are, indeed,
good old Galloway virtues of the ancientest descent, and not to be
despised in the captain of an archer guard."

"And pray, sir, what may be the ill qualities which, in Captain
Sholto, make up for these excellent Scottish virtues?" asked the lady,
disdainfully.

"He is faithful--" began the Earl.

"So is every dog!" interjected Sybilla de Thouars.

The Earl laughed a little gay laugh.

"There is one dog somewhere about the castle, licking an unhealed
sword-thrust, that wishes our Sholto had been a trifle less faithful."

The Lady Sybilla sat silent in her saddle for a space; then, striking
abruptly into a new subject, she said, "Do you defend the lists
to-day?"

"Nay," answered the Earl, "to-day it is my good fortune to sit by your
side and hold the truncheon while others meet in the shock. But the
knight who this day gains the prize, to-morrow must choose a side
against me and fight a _melee_."

"Ah," cried the girl, "I would that my uncle were healed of his
quinsy. He loveth that sport. He says that he is too old to defend
his shield all day against every comer, but in the _melee_ he is still
as good a lance as when he rode by the side of the Maid over the
bridge of Orleans."

"That is well thought of," cried the Earl; "he shall lead the Knights
of the Blue in my place."

"Nay, my Lord Duke," cried the Lady Sybilla, "more than anything on
earth I desire to see you bear arms on the field of honour."

"Oh, I am no great lance," replied the Douglas, modestly; "I am yet
too young and light. As things go now, the butterfly cannot tilt
against the beef barrel when both are trussed into armour. But with
the bare sword I will fight all day and be hungry for more. Aye, or
rattle a merry rally with the quarter-staff like any common varlet.
But at both Sholto there is my master, and doth ofttimes swinge me
tightly for my soul's good."

The lady went on quickly, as if avoiding any further mention of
Sholto's name.

"Nevertheless, to-morrow I must see you ride in the lists. My uncle
says that your father was a mighty lance when he rode at Amboise, on
the famous day of the Thirteen Victories."

"Ah, but my father was twice the man that I am," said the Earl, who
had not taken his eyes from her face since she began to speak.

"Great alike in love and war?" she queried, smiling.

"So, at least, it is reported of him in Touraine," answered his son,
smiling back at