is her father. She has told
us of your valiant espousal of her cause, and the thanks of her brothers
and mother await you, Roger de Conde.

"She also told us of your strange likeness to Prince Edward, but until I
saw you, I could not believe two men could be born of different mothers
and yet be so identical. Come, we will seek out my daughter and her
mother."

De Montfort led the young man to a small chamber where they were greeted
by Princess Eleanor, his wife, and by Bertrade de Montfort. The girl was
frankly glad to see him once more and laughingly chide him because he
had allowed another to usurp his prerogative and rescue her from Peter
of Colfax.

"And to think," she cried, "that it should have been Norman of Torn who
fulfilled your duties for you. But he did not capture Sir Peter's head,
my friend; that is still at large to be brought to me upon a golden
dish."

"I have not forgotten, Lady Bertrade," said Roger de Conde. "Peter of
Colfax will return."

The girl glanced at him quickly.

"The very words of the Outlaw of Torn," she said. "How many men be ye,
Roger de Conde? With raised visor, you could pass in the King's court
for the King's son; and in manner, and form, and swordsmanship, and your
visor lowered, you might easily be hanged for Norman of Torn."

"And which would it please ye most that I be?" he laughed.

"Neither," she answered, "I be satisfied with my friend, Roger de
Conde."

"So ye like not the Devil of Torn?" he asked.

"He has done me a great service, and I be under monstrous obligations
to him, but he be, nathless, the Outlaw of Torn and I the daughter of an
earl and a king's sister."

"A most unbridgeable gulf indeed," commented Roger de Conde, drily. "Not
even gratitude could lead a king's niece to receive Norman of Torn on a
footing of equality."

"He has my friendship, always," said the girl, "but I doubt me if Norman
of Torn be the man to impose upon it."

"One can never tell," said Roger de Conde, "what manner of fool a man
may be. When a man's head be filled with a pretty face, what room be
there for reason?"

"Soon thou wilt be a courtier, if thou keep long at this turning of
pretty compliments," said the girl coldly; "and I like not courtiers,
nor their empty, hypocritical chatter."

The man laughed.

"If I turned a compliment, I did not know it," he said. "What I think, I
say. It may not be a courtly speech or it may. I know nothing of courts
and care less, but