nished now I shall assuredly be, unless Uncle Eustace can work
wonders."

"I will see what may be done, Arthur," said Eustace. "And now, have
you supped?"

The evening passed off very happily to the little page, who, quite
reassured by his uncle's consolations, only thought of the delight of
being with one who seemed to supply to him the place at once of an
elder brother and of a father.

Early the next morning, Eustace walked with him to the palace. Just
before he reached it, he made this inquiry, "Arthur, do you often see
the Lady Agnes de Clarenham?"

"Oh, yes, I am with her almost every afternoon. She hears me read, she
helps me with my French words, and teaches me courtly manners. I am her
own page and servant--but, here we are. This is the door that leads to
the room of Master Michael de Sancy, the master of the Damoiseaux."

CHAPTER XII

The next few days were spent in taking precautions against the danger
intimated by the mysterious message. Gaston gathered together a few of
the ancient Lances of Lynwood, who were glad to enlist under the blue
crosslet, and these, with some men-at-arms, who had recently come to
Bordeaux to seek employment, formed a body with whom Eustace trusted to
be able to keep the disaffected in check. Through vineyards and over
gently swelling hills did their course lead them, till, on the evening
of the second day's journey, the view to the south was shut in by more
lofty and bolder peaks, rising gradually towards the Pyrenees, and on
the summit of a rock overhanging a small rapid stream appeared the tall
and massive towers of a Castle, surmounted by the broad red cross of
St. George, and which their guide pronounced to be the Chateau Norbelle.

"A noble eyrie!" said Eustace, looking up and measuring it with his
eye. "Too noble to be sacrificed to the snaring of one poor Knight."

"Shame that such a knightly building should serve for such a nest of
traitors!" said Gaston. "Saving treachery, a dozen boys could keep it
against a royal host, provided they had half the spirit of your little
nephew."

"Let us summon the said traitors," said Eustace, blowing a blast on his
bugle. The gates were thrown wide open, the drawbridge lowered, and
beneath the portcullis stood the Seneschal, his bunch of keys at his
girdle. Both Eustace and Gaston cast searching glances upon him, and
his aspect made them for a moment doubt the truth of the warning. A
patch covered the lost ey