King Edward's exemplar, dines with the citizen
to-day, that he may borrow gold from the citizen to-morrow. Surely, yes;
and hence, they say, the small love the wise Hastings bears to the stout
earl."

"How runs the tale? Be seated, Master Alwyn."

"Marry, thus: when William Hastings was but a squire, and much favoured
by Richard, Duke of York, he lifted his eyes to the Lady Katherine
Nevile, sister to the Earl of Warwick, and in beauty and in dower, as in
birth, a mate for a king's son."

"And, doubtless, the Lady Katherine returned his love?"

"So it is said, maiden; and the Earl of Salisbury her father and Lord
Warwick her brother discovered the secret, and swore that no new man
(the stout earl's favourite word of contempt), though he were made a
duke, should give to an upstart posterity the quarterings of Montagu
and Nevile. Marry, Mistress Sibyll, there is a north country and pithy
proverb, 'Happy is the man whose father went to the devil.' Had some old
Hastings been a robber and extortioner, and left to brave William the
heirship of his wickedness in lordships and lands, Lord Warwick had not
called him 'a new man.' Master Hastings was dragged, like a serf's son,
before the earl on his dais; and be sure he was rated soundly, for
his bold blood was up, and he defied the earl, as a gentleman born, to
single battle. Then the earl's followers would have fallen on him; and
in those days, under King Henry, he who bearded a baron in his hall must
have a troop at his back, or was like to have a rope round his neck;
but the earl (for the lion is not as fierce as they paint him) came down
from his dais, and said, 'Man, I like thy spirit, and I myself will dub
thee knight that I may pick up thy glove and give thee battle.'"

"And they fought? Brave Hastings!"

"No. For whether the Duke of York forbade it, or whether the Lady
Katherine would not hear of such strife between fere and frere, I know
not; but Duke Richard sent Hastings to Ireland, and, a month after, the
Lady Katherine married Lord Bonville's son and heir,--so, at least,
tell the gossips and sing the ballad-mongers. Men add that Lord Hastings
still loves the dame, though, certes, he knows how to console himself."

"Loves her! Nay, nay,--I trove not," answered Sibyll, in a low voice,
and with a curl of her dewy lip.

At this moment the door opened gently and Lord Hastings himself entered.
He came in with the familiarity of one accustomed to the place.

"And