, honor, and fame, and still they

sat drinking in her words while the fire burned down and the red

ash turned to gray.

"by the sainted ives!" cried du guesclin at last, "it is time

that we spoke of what we are to do this night, for i cannot think

that in this wayside auberge there are fit quarters for an

honorable company."

sir nigel gave a long sigh as he came back from the dreams of

chivalry and hardihood into which this strange woman's words had

wafted him. "i care not where i sleep," said he; "but these are

indeed somewhat rude lodgings for this fair lady."

"what contents my lord contents me," quoth she. "i perceive, sir

nigel, that you are under vow," she added, glancing at his

covered eye.

"it is my purpose to attempt some small deed," he answered.

"and the glove--is it your lady's?"

"it is indeed my sweet wife's."

"who is doubtless proud of you."

"say rather i of her," quoth he quickly. "god he knows that i am

not worthy to be her humble servant. it is easy, lady, for a man

to ride forth in the light of day, and do his devoir when all men

have eyes for him. but in a woman's heart there is a strength

and truth which asks no praise, and can but be known to him whose

treasure it is."

the lady tiphaine smiled across at her husband. "you have often

told me, bertrand, that there were very gentle knights amongst

the english," quoth she.

"aye, aye," said he moodily. "but to horse, sir nigel, you and

yours and we shall seek the chateau of sir tristram de rochefort,

which is two miles on this side of villefranche. he is seneschal

of auvergne, and mine old war companion."

"certes, he would have a welcome for you," quoth sir nigel; "but

indeed he might look askance at one who comes without permit over

the marches."

"by the virgin! when he learns that you have come to draw away

these rascals he will be very blithe to look upon your face. inn-

keeper, here are ten gold pieces. what is over and above your

reckoning you may take off from your charges to the next needy

knight who comes this way. come then, for it grows late and the

horses are stamping in the roadway."

the lady tiphaine and her spouse sprang upon their steeds without

setting feet to stirrup, and away they jingled down the white

moonlit highway, with sir nigel at the lady's bridle-arm, and

ford a spear's length behind them. alleyne had lingered for an

instant in the passage, and as he did so there came a wild outcry

from a chamber upon the left, and out there ran aylward and john,

laughing together like two schoolboys who are bent upon a prank.

at sight of alleyne they slunk past him with somewhat of a shame-

faced air, and springing upon their horses galloped after their

party. the hubbub within the chamber did not cease, however, but

rather increased, with yells of: "a moi, mes amis! a moi,

camarades! a moi, l'honorable champion de l'eveque de montaubon!

a la recouse de l'eglise sainte!" so shrill was the outcry that

both the inn-keeper and alleyne, with every varlet within

hearing, rushed wildly to the scene of the uproar.

it was indeed a singular scene which met their eyes. the room

was a long and lofty one, stone floored and bare, with a fire at

the further end upon which a great pot was boiling. a deal table

ran down the centre, with a wooden wine-pitcher upon it and two

horn cups. some way from it was a smaller table with a single

beaker and a broken wine-bottle. from the heavy wooden rafters

which formed the roof there hung rows of hooks which held up

sides of bacon, joints of smoked beef, and strings of onions for

winter use. in the very centre of all these, upon the largest

hook of all, there hung a fat little red-faced man with enormous

whiskers, kicking madly in the air and clawing at rafters, hams,

and all else that was within hand-grasp. the huge steel hook had

been passed through the collar of his leather jerkin, and there

he hung like a fish on a line, writhing, twisting, and screaming,

but utterly unable to free himself from his extraordinary

position. it was not until alleyne and the landlord had mounted

on the table that they were able to lift him down, when he sank

gasping with rage into a seat, and rolled his eyes round in every

direction.

"has he gone?" quoth he.

"gone? who?"

"he, the man with the red head, the giant man."

"yes," said alleyne, "he hath gone."

"and comes not back?"

"no."

"the better for him!" cried the little man, with a long sigh of

relief. "mon dieu! what! am i not the champion of the bishop of

montaubon? ah, could i have descended, could i have come down,

ere he fled! then you would have seen. you would have beheld a

spectacle then. there would have been one rascal the less upon

earth. ma, foi, yes!"

"good master pelligny," said the landlord, "these