erent
life from the days he and I spent together of old."

"Gaston d'Aubricour is as sharp as the Knight himself," said Leonard,
"and gibes me without ceasing; but yet I could bear it all, were it not
for seeing Eustace, the clerk, preferred to me, as if I were not heir
to more acres than he can ever count crowns."

"What may then be your name, fair youth, and your inheritance?"
demanded the one-eyed Squire, "for your coat of arms is new in the
camp."

"My name is Leonard Ashton; my father--" but Leonard's speech was cut
short by a Squire who stumbled over his outstretched foot. Both
parties burst into angry exclamations, Leonard's new acquaintance
taking his part. Men looked up, and serious consequences might have
ensued, had not Gaston hastened to the spot. "Shame on you, young
malapert," said he to his hopeful pupil. "Cannot I leave you one
moment unwatched, but you must be brawling in the Prince's own
presence? Here, bear this bread to Sir Reginald instantly, and leave
me to make your peace. Master Clifford," added he, as Leonard shuffled
away, "'tis an uncouth slip whom Sir Reginald Lynwood has undertaken to
mould into form, and if he is visited as he deserves for each piece of
discourtesy, his life will not be long enough for amendment, so I must
e'en beg you to take my apology."

"Most readily, Master d'Aubricour," replied Clifford; "there would not
have been the least offence had the youth only possessed a civil
tongue."

"Is not he the son of one of your wealthy Englishmen?" asked the
one-eyed Squire, carelessly.

"Ha! Why should you think so?" said Gaston, turning sharply; "because
he shows so much good nurture?"

"Because his brains are grown fat with devouring his father's beeves,
fare on which you seem to thrive, le Maure," said the one-eyed, "though
you were not wont to like English beef and English discipline better
than Gascon wine and Gascon freedom. I begin to think that the cub of
the Black Wolf of the Pyrenees is settling down into a tame English
house-dog."

"He has teeth and claws at your service," replied Gaston.

"Ay?" said the Squire interrogatively; then, changing his tone, "But
tell me honestly, Gaston, repent you not of having taken service with
gallant Sir Perduccas?"

"Why, you have left him yourself."

"Yes, because we had sharp words on the spoil of a Navarrese village.
My present leader, Sir William Felton, is as free and easy as d'Albret,
or Aymerigot Marcel himse