Protector," he said; and Master Avery Mitchell, the
feodary,(1) who had been closely watching for this same courser-man
for several anxious hours, took from his hands a scroll, on which was
inscribed:

(1) An old English term for the guardian of "certain wards of the
state,"--young persons under guardianship of the government.

"To Avery Mitchell, feodary of the Wards in Herts, at Halfield House.
From the Lord Protector, THESE:"

And next, the courser-man, in secrecy, unscrewed one of the bullion
buttons on his buff jerkin, and taking from it a scrap of paper, handed
this also to the watchful feodary. Then, his mission ended, he repaired
to the buttery to satisfy his lusty English appetite with a big dish
of pasty, followed by ale and "wardens" (as certain hard pears, used
chiefly for cooking, were called in those days), while the cautious
Avery Mitchell, unrolling the scrap of paper, read:

"In secrecy, THESE: Under guise of mummers place a half-score good men
and true in your Yule-tide maskyng. Well armed and safely conditioned.
They will be there who shall command. Look for the green dragon of
Wantley. On your allegiance. This from ye wit who."

Scarcely had the feodary read, re-read, and then destroyed this secret
and singular missive, when the "Ho! hollo!" of Her Grace the Princess'
outriders rang on the crisp December air, and there galloped up to the
broad doorway of the manor-house, a gayly costumed train of lords and
ladies, with huntsmen and falconers and yeomen following on behind.
Central in the group, flushed with her hard gallop through the wintry
air, a young girl of fifteen, tall and trim in figure, sat her horse
with the easy grace of a practised and confident rider. Her long velvet
habit was deeply edged with fur, and both kirtle and head-gear were of
a rich purple tinge, while from beneath the latter just peeped a heavy
coil of sunny, golden hair. Her face was fresh and fair, as should be
that of any young girl of fifteen, but its expression was rather that of
high spirits and of heedless and impetuous moods than of simple maidenly
beauty.

"Tilly-vally, my lord," she cried, dropping her bridle-rein into the
hands of a waiting groom, "'t was my race to-day, was it not? Odds fish,
man!" she cried out sharply to the attendant groom; "be ye easier with
Roland's bridle there. One beast of his gentle mettle were worth a score
of clumsy varlets like to you! Well, said I not right, my Lord Admiral