g from a banquet at the pavilion of the
Prince of Wales, with Ralph as usual following at a little distance,
when from a corner of the street a man darted suddenly out and struck a
dagger with all his force between his shoulders. Well was it for Walter
that he had taken Geoffrey's advice, and had never laid aside the shirt
of mail, night or day. Fine as was its temper, two or three links of the
outer fold were broken, but the point did not penetrate the second fold,
and the dagger snapped in the hand of the striker. The force of the
sudden blow, however, hurled Walter to the ground. With a loud cry Ralph
rushed forward. The man instantly fled. Ralph pursued him but a short
distance and then hastened back to Walter.

"Are you hurt, Sir Walter?" he exclaimed.

"In no way, Ralph, thanks to my shirt of mail. Well, indeed, was it for
me that I was wearing it, or I should assuredly have been a dead man. I
had almost begun to forget that I was a threatened man; but I shall be
on guard for the future."

"I wish I had followed the fellow," Ralph said. "I would not have slain
him could I have helped it, but would have left it for the hangman to
extort from him the name of his employer; but, in truth, he struck so
hard, and you fell so straight before the blow, that I feared the mail
had given way, and that you were sorely wounded if not killed. You have
oft told me that I was over-careful of you, but you see that I was not
careful enough, however, you may be assured that if another attempt be
made those who attempt it shall not get off scot free. Do you think of
laying a complaint before the provost against him you suspect?"

"It would be useless, Ralph. We may have suspicion of the man from whom
the blow came, but have no manner of proof. It might have been done
by any ruffian camp-follower who struck the blow only with the hope of
carrying off my chain and purse. The camp swarms with such fellows, and
we have no clue which could lead to his detection, unless," he added,
stooping and picking a piece of steel which lay at his feet, "this
broken dagger may some day furnish us with one. No; we will say nought
about it. Sir James Carnegie is not now in camp, having left a week
since on business in England. We exchange no words when we meet, but I
heard that he had been called away. Fortunately the young prince likes
him not, and I therefore have seldom occasion to meet him. I have no
doubt that he credits me with the disfavour in