d esteem. And so also with the
squire Le Bourg Capillet, who would have been a very valiant captain had
he lived."

"He is dead then?" asked Alleyne Edricson.

"Alas! it was my ill fate to slay him in a bickering which broke out in
a field near the township of Tarbes. I cannot call to mind how the
thing came about, for it was in the year of the Prince's ride through
Languedoc, when there was much fine skirmishing to be had at barriers.
By St. Paul! I do not think that any honorable cavalier could ask for
better chance of advancement than might be had by spurring forth before
the army and riding to the gateways of Narbonne, or Bergerac or Mont
Giscar, where some courteous gentleman would ever be at wait to do
what he might to meet your wish or ease you of your vow. Such a one at
Ventadour ran three courses with me betwixt daybreak and sunrise, to the
great exaltation of his lady."

"And did you slay him also, my lord?" asked Ford with reverence.

"I could never learn, for he was carried within the barrier, and as I
had chanced to break the bone of my leg it was a great unease for me
to ride or even to stand. Yet, by the goodness of heaven and the pious
intercession of the valiant St. George, I was able to sit my charger
in the ruffle of Poictiers, which was no very long time afterwards. But
what have we here? A very fair and courtly maiden, or I mistake."

It was indeed a tall and buxom country lass, with a basket of
spinach-leaves upon her head, and a great slab of bacon tucked under one
arm. She bobbed a frightened curtsey as Sir Nigel swept his velvet hat
from his head and reined up his great charger.

"God be with thee, fair maiden!" said he.

"God guard thee, my lord!" she answered, speaking in the broadest West
Saxon speech, and balancing herself first on one foot and then on the
other in her bashfulness.

"Fear not, my fair damsel," said Sir Nigel, "but tell me if perchance
a poor and most unworthy knight can in any wise be of service to you.
Should it chance that you have been used despitefully, it may be that I
may obtain justice for you."

"Lawk no, kind sir," she answered, clutching her bacon the tighter, as
though some design upon it might be hid under this knightly offer. "I
be the milking wench o' fairmer Arnold, and he be as kind a maister as
heart could wish."

"It is well," said he, and with a shake of the bridle rode on down the
woodland path. "I would have you bear in mind," he continued to