as well.

It was dusk when they reached Battel and as Norman of Torn bid the
prince adieu, for the horde was to make camp just without the city, he
said:

"May I ask My Lord to carry a message to Lady Bertrade? It is in
reference to a promise I made her two years since and which I now, for
the first time, be able to fulfill."

"Certainly, my friend," replied Philip. The outlaw, dismounting, called
upon one of his squires for parchment, and, by the light of a torch,
wrote a message to Bertrade de Montfort.

Half an hour later, a servant in the castle of Battel handed the missive
to the daughter of Leicester as she sat alone in her apartment. Opening
it, she read:

To Lady Bertrade de Montfort, from her friend, Norman of Torn.

Two years have passed since you took the hand of the Outlaw of Torn in
friendship, and now he comes to sue for another favor.

It is that he may have speech with you, alone, in the castle of Battel
this night.

Though the name Norman of Torn be fraught with terror to others, I know
that you do not fear him, for you must know the loyalty and friendship
which he bears you.

My camp lies without the city's gates, and your messenger will have safe
conduct whatever reply he bears to,

Norman of Torn.

Fear? Fear Norman of Torn? The girl smiled as she thought of that moment
of terrible terror two years ago when she learned, in the castle of
Peter of Colfax, that she was alone with, and in the power of, the Devil
of Torn. And then she recalled his little acts of thoughtful chivalry,
nay, almost tenderness, on the long night ride to Leicester.

What a strange contradiction of a man! She wondered if he would come
with lowered visor, for she was still curious to see the face that lay
behind the cold, steel mask. She would ask him this night to let her see
his face, or would that be cruel? For, did they not say that it was
from the very ugliness of it that he kept his helm closed to hide the
repulsive sight from the eyes of men!

As her thoughts wandered back to her brief meeting with him two years
before, she wrote and dispatched her reply to Norman of Torn.

In the great hall that night as the King's party sat at supper, Philip
of France, addressing Henry, said:

"And who thinkest thou, My Lord King, rode by my side to Battel today,
that I might not be set upon by knaves upon the highway?"

"Some of our good friends from Kent?" asked the King.

"Nay, it was a man upon whose head Your M