sitting some distance
away, and began to tell her of his meeting. He was so full of the
gallantry of the knight he had met, his grace and martial bearing,
that the good dame could not stem the torrent of words which flowed
from him.

"Oh, mother," he babbled on, "you never saw anyone so splendid as him
whom I have seen to-day, a man more beautiful than the Lord Michael
the Archangel, whose image is in our church."

His mother smiled and patted him fondly on the cheek.

"Come, my son," she said, "there is no man so beautiful as the
Archangel Michael."

But little Morvan shook his head.

"Saving your grace, there are, my mother," he said gravely. "There are
many men more splendid than Saint Michael, and they are called
knights. How I wish that I might grow up and become a knight too!"

At these words the poor lady, who had lost her husband in battle and
who dreaded that her only son might be taken from her, was seized with
such dismay that she sank to the ground unconscious. The little
Morvan, without turning his head, entered the stables and led out a
fresh horse. Jumping lightly on the steed's back, he turned its head
in the direction in which the splendid cavalier had gone and rode
hastily after him.

_The Return of Morvan_

Ten years passed--years full of martial achievement and adventure for
young Morvan. Then a desire to return to the ancestral mansion seized
upon the youth, and he made his way homeward. But great was his dismay
when he entered the courtyard of the manor and looked about him, for
the blackberry bushes and the nettles were growing round the threshold
of the house and the walls were half ruined and covered with ivy. As
he was about to enter he observed a poor old blind woman standing in
the entrance.

[Illustration: MORVAN RETURNS TO HIS RUINED HOME]

"Pardon me, dame, but perhaps you can give me hospitality for the
night," he said.

"Alas! sir, we have but little," she replied. "This house has been
allowed to go to ruin since its son and heir quitted it."

As she ceased speaking a young damsel descended the broken stone
steps, and after regarding Morvan for a moment burst into tears.

"How now, maiden," said Morvan, "wherefore do you weep?"

"Alas, Seigneur," replied the maiden, "I have a brother who left us
ten years ago to lead the life of a warrior, and every time that I see
a youth about his age I feel myself compelled to weep."

"Tell me, my child," said Morvan, "have you n