home, and by the Mass I feel as though I were a
new being since then!"

"Yea, verily, and I also," answered Raymond, looking round him with
eager eyes. "Gaston, look well about thee; for by what Malcolm says,
these very woods through which we shall pass, and the Manor of old
Windsor hard by, are the property of our uncle Sir John de Brocas, the
King's Master of the Horse; and by what I hear, methinks we shall see
him in the flesh ere the day has passed."

"Ha!" exclaimed Gaston, with interest; "if that be so let us heed him
well, for much of our future may hang on him. He is in the King's
favour, they say, and if he did but plead our cause with the Roy
Outremer, we might well look to call Basildene our home ere long."

"We must call him no longer the Roy Outremer," said Raymond, with a
smile. "If we are to be the brothers of Basildene, we must be English
subjects and he our liege lord."

"True," answered Gaston readily; "and methinks, if he be what all men
say, it will be no hardship to own ourselves his subjects. I would ten
thousand times sooner call myself so than be servant to yon weak and
treacherous King of France."

At that moment an interruption occurred to delay the little cavalcade
for a few moments. The road they were traversing led them past a solid
gateway, which showed that upon one side at least the property was that
of a private individual; and just as they were approaching this gateway
the portal swung open, and out of it rode a fine-looking man of middle
age and imposing aspect, followed by three youths richly attired, and by
some dozen mounted attendants. The leader of the party wore a dress that
was evidently the livery of some office -- a tunic of blue and a cape of
white Brussels cloth. His cap was of white and blue, and the King's
badge of a silver swan was fastened in the front.

As he rode out, the esquires round Gaston and Raymond drew rein and
whispered one to another:

"It is the King's Master of the Horse!"

Eagerly and curiously the two lads gazed at the face and figure of the
kinsman now before them, whilst Sir James spurred his horse forward, a
smile lighting up the grave face of the King's servant.

"Marry well met, good Sir James!" was the hearty greeting of the latter,
as the two men grasped hands. "I warrant you will be welcome at the
Castle, whither, I doubt not, your steps are bent. It was but two days
since that his Majesty was asking news of you, no man knowing rightly