es hardly varied a tittle from day to day, and
soon became a duty, and finally a hard and grinding task. He used, in
the earlier days of his castle life, to hate the dull monotony of the
tri-weekly hacking at the pels with a heavy broadsword as he hated
nothing else; but now, though he still had that exercise to perform, it
was almost a relief from the heavy dulness of riding, riding, riding in
the tilt-yard with shield and lance--couch--recover--en passant.

But though he had nowadays but little time for boyish plays and
escapades, his life was not altogether without relaxation. Now and
then he was permitted to drive in mock battle with other of the younger
knights and bachelors in the paddock near the outer walls. It was a
still more welcome change in the routine of his life when, occasionally,
he would break a light lance in the tilting-court with Sir Everard
Willoughby; Lord George, perhaps, and maybe one or two others of the
Hall folk, looking on.

Then one gilded day, when Lord Dudleigh was visiting at Devlen, Myles
ran a course with a heavier lance in the presence of the Earl, who came
down to the tilt-yard with his guest to see the young novitiate ride
against Sir Everard. He did his best, and did it well. Lord Dudleigh
praised his poise and carriage, and Lord George, who was present, gave
him an approving smile and nod. But the Earl of Mackworth only sat
stroking his beard impassively, as was his custom. Myles would have
given much to know his thoughts.

In all these years Sir James Lee almost never gave any expression either
of approbation or disapproval--excepting when Myles exhibited some
carelessness or oversight. Then his words were sharp and harsh enough.
More than once Myles's heart failed him, and bitter discouragement
took possession of him; then nothing but his bull-dog tenacity and
stubbornness brought him out from the despondency of the dark hours.

"Sir," he burst out one day, when his heart was heavy with some failure,
"tell me, I beseech thee, do I get me any of skill at all? Is it in me
ever to make a worthy knight, fit to hold lance and sword with other
men, or am I only soothly a dull heavy block, worth naught of any good?"

"Thou art a fool, sirrah!" answered Sir James, in his grimmest tones.
"Thinkest thou to learn all of knightly prowess in a year and a half?
Wait until thou art ripe, and then I will tell thee if thou art fit to
couch a lance or ride a course with a right knight."

"T