th his body-guard of myrmidons behind him.

Habited in black, as was his custom, with a velvet mantle on his
shoulder, and a long rapier by his side, he came forward with a measured
step and assured demeanour. Though he must necessarily have been
surprised by the assemblage he found--so much more numerous and splendid
than he could have anticipated--he betrayed no signs whatever of
embarrassment. Nor, though his quick eye instantly detected Sir Francis,
and he guessed at once why the poor knight had been so scandalously
treated, did he exhibit any signs of displeasure, or take the slightest
notice of the circumstance; reserving this point for consideration, when
his first business should be settled. An additional frown might have
darkened his countenance; but it was so stern and sombre, without it,
that no perceptible change could be discerned; unless it might be in the
lightning glances he cast around, as if seeking some one he might call
to account presently for the insult. But no one seemed willing to reply
to the challenge. Though bold enough before he came, and boastful of
what they would do, they all looked awed by his presence, and averted
their gaze from him. There was, indeed, something so formidable in the
man, that to shun a quarrel with him was more a matter of prudence than
an act of cowardice; and on the present occasion, no one liked to be
first to provoke him; trusting to his neighbour to commence the attack,
or awaiting the general outbreak.

There was one exception, however, and that was Jocelyn Mounchensey, who,
so far from desiring to shun Sir Giles's searching regards, courted
them; and as the knight's eagle eye ranged round the table and fell upon
him, the young man (notwithstanding the efforts of his pacific neighbour
in the furred cloak to restrain him) suddenly rose up, and throwing all
the scorn and defiance he could muster into his countenance, returned
Mompesson's glance with one equally fierce and menacing.

A bitter smile curled Sir Giles's lip at this reply to his challenge,
and he regarded the young man fixedly, as if to grave his features upon
his memory. Perhaps they brought Mounchensey's father to mind, for Sir
Giles withdrew his gaze for a moment to reflect, and then looked again
at Jocelyn with fresh curiosity. If he had any doubts as to whom he
beheld, they were removed by Sir Francis, who managed to hiccup forth--

"'Tis he, Sir Giles--'tis Jocelyn Mounchensey."

"I thought as