ve artists of the day were wont to depict them. a few

rich settles and bancals, choicely carved and decorated with

glazed leather hangings of the sort termed or basane, completed

the furniture of the apartment, save that at one side of the dais

there stood a lofty perch, upon which a cast of three solemn

prussian gerfalcons sat, hooded and jesseled, as silent and

motionless as the royal fowler who stood beside them.

in the centre of the dais were two very high chairs with

dorserets, which arched forwards over the heads of the occupants,

the whole covered with light-blue silk thickly powdered with

golden stars. on that to the right sat a very tall and well

formed man with red hair, a livid face, and a cold blue eye,

which had in it something peculiarly sinister and menacing. he

lounged back in a careless position, and yawned repeatedly as

though heartily weary of the proceedings, stooping from time to

time to fondle a shaggy spanish greyhound which lay stretched at

his feet. on the other throne there was perched bolt upright,

with prim demeanor, as though he felt himself to be upon his

good behavior, a little, round, pippin faced person, who smiled

and bobbed to every one whose eye he chanced to meet. between

and a little in front of them on a humble charette or stool, sat

a slim, dark young man, whose quiet attire and modest manner

would scarce proclaim him to be the most noted prince in europe.

a jupon of dark blue cloth, tagged with buckles and pendants of

gold, seemed but a sombre and plain attire amidst the wealth of

silk and ermine and gilt tissue of fustian with which he was

surrounded. he sat with his two hands clasped round his knee,

his head slightly bent, and an expression of impatience and of

trouble upon his clear, well-chiselled features. behind the

thrones there stood two men in purple gowns, with ascetic, clean-

shaven faces, and half a dozen other high dignitaries and office-

holders of aquitaine. below on either side of the steps were

forty or fifty barons, knights, and courtiers, ranged in a triple

row to the right and the left, with a clear passage in the

centre.

"there sits the prince," whispered sir john chandos, as they

entered. "he on the right is pedro, whom we are about to put

upon the spanish throne. the other is don james, whom we purpose

with the aid of god to help to his throne in majorca. now follow

me, and take it not to heart if he be a little short in his

speech, for indeed his mind is full of many very weighty

concerns."

the prince, however, had already observed their entrance, and,

springing to his feet, he had advanced with a winning smile and

the light of welcome in his eyes.

"we do not need your good offices as herald here, sir john," said

he in a low but clear voice; "these valiant knights are very well

known to me. welcome to aquitaine, sir nigel loring and sir

oliver buttesthorn. nay, keep your knee for my sweet father at

windsor. i would have your hands, my friends. we are like to

give you some work to do ere you see the downs of hampshire once

more. know you aught of spain, sir oliver?"

"nought, my sire, save that i have heard men say that there is a

dish named an olla which is prepared there, though i have never

been clear in my mind as to whether it was but a ragout such as

is to be found in the south, or whether there is some seasoning

such as fennel or garlic which is peculiar to spain."

"your doubts, sir oliver, shall soon be resolved," answered the

prince, laughing heartily, as did many of the barons who

surrounded them. "his majesty here will doubtless order that you

have this dish hotly seasoned when we are all safely in castile."

"i will have a hotly seasoned dish for some folk i know of,"

answered don pedro with a cold smile.

"but my friend sir oliver can fight right hardily without either

bite or sup," remarked the prince. "did i not see him at

poictiers, when for two days we had not more than a crust of

bread and a cup of foul water, yet carrying himself most

valiantly. with my own eyes i saw him in the rout sweep the head

from a knight of picardy with one blow of his sword."

"the rogue got between me and the nearest french victual wain,"

muttered sir oliver, amid a fresh titter from those who were near

enough to catch his words.

"how many have you in your train?" asked the prince, assuming a

graver mien.

"i have forty men-at-arms, sire," said sir oliver.

"and i have one hundred archers and a score of lancers, but there

are two hundred men who wait for me on this side of the water

upon the borders of navarre."

"and who are they, sir nigel?"

"they are a free company, sire, and they are called the white

company."

to the astonishment of the knight, his words provoked a burst of

merriment from the barons round, in which the two kings