have been the victor of the day."

"My dear child! what can you mean?" said the prince. "I believe
everything was closed quite properly, and as for myself, I am entirely
satisfied with my share of the day's success."

"If you had thrown him," said Endymion, "he could not with decency have
contended for the golden helm."

"Oh! that is what you deplore," said the prince. "The Count of Ferroll
and I shall have to contend for many things more precious than golden
helms before we die."

"I believe he is a very overrated man," said Endymion.

"Why?" said the prince.

"I detest him," said Endymion.

"That is certainly a reason why _you_ should not overrate him," said the
prince.

"There seems a general conspiracy to run him up," said Endymion with
pique.

"The Count of Ferroll is the man of the future," said the prince calmly.

"That is what Mr. Neuchatel said to me yesterday. I suppose he caught it
from you."

"It is an advantage, a great advantage, for me to observe the Count of
Ferroll in this intimate society," said the prince, speaking slowly,
"perhaps even to fathom him. But I am not come to that yet. He is a man
neither to love nor to detest. He has himself an intelligence superior
to all passion, I might say all feeling; and if, in dealing with such a
being, we ourselves have either, we give him an advantage."

"Well, all the same, I hope you will win the golden helm to-morrow,"
said Endymion, looking a little perplexed.

"The golden casque that I am ordained to win," said the prince, "is not
at Montfort Castle. This, after all, is but Mambrino's helmet."

A knot of young dandies were discussing the chances of the morrow as
Endymion was passing by, and as he knew most of them he joined the
group.

"I hope to heaven," said one, "that the Count of Ferroll will beat that
foreign chap to-morrow; I hate foreigners."

"So do I," said a second, and there was a general murmur of assent.

"The Count of Ferroll is as much a foreigner as the prince," said
Endymion rather sharply.

"Oh! I don't call him a foreigner at all," said the first speaker. "He
is a great favourite at White's; no one rides cross country like him,
and he is a deuced fine shot in the bargain."

"I will back Prince Florestan against him either in field or cover,"
said Endymion.

"Well, I don't know your friend," said the young gentleman
contemptuously, "so I cannot bet."

"I am sure your friend, Lady Montfort, my dear Dymy, will bac