purs, had not
concealed from these faithful stewards of their master that the younger
and more delicately featured of the two clerks was no other than a
pretty maiden.

"Our great Duke would speak with you, Mistress," was all the
explanation they deigned to give. And in such troubled times even so
much was frequently omitted.

But the hawks soon found out their mistake. Though the Professor's
sword-cane might have been safely disregarded by the breast-plate
wearers, it was otherwise with the huge bell-mouthed pistol which he
carried in his left hand. It was also far otherwise with the snaky blade
of the Abbe John, the daintiest sworder of all the _Pre des Clercs_. The
man at the left of Claire's bridle-rein felt something sting him just at
the coming together of the head-piece and shoulder-plates. Even less
could the two captors afford to disregard Claire's last defender, when,
all unexpectedly, with a shrill war-cry of "Stirling Brig an' doon wi'
the Papishers," Jean-aux-Choux whirled two-handed into the fray.

The first blow fell on the right-hand man. Fair on the boss of his
shoulder-plate, heavy as a mace, fell that huge six foot of blade.

The armour was of proof, or that head would have been shorn from his
body. As it was, the man fell senseless from his horse. Promptly his
companion let go the rein of Claire's pony, crying, "Help there, my Lord
Duke!" And so, wheeling his horse about, put speed to it, and rode in
the direction of a group of gay knights and gentlemen who, as it now
appeared, had been watching the fray with some amusement without caring
to meddle with it.

Then from the midst of the little crowd there came one forth, the finest
and properest man Claire had ever seen. He was tall and magnificently
arrayed. The cloak over his light chain-armour was of dark crimson and
gold, and the six enamelled lilies on his helmet marked him as next in
rank to the princes of the blood.

The cavaliers about him drew their swords, and after saluting, asked if
it were the will of their Lord Duke that they should punish these
caitiffs who had so battered Goulard and Moulinet.

But "My Lord" put them aside with an impatient gesture of his glove.

"It would have served Goulard and Moulinet right if they had gotten
twice as much!" he said. "They meddled in what did not concern them."

All the same, as he rode forward, his eyebrows, which were thick and
barred across, twitched threateningly. He threw off his crim