own
degree, indeed! scarce even a knight's son!'

'What he deems his own degree, then,' corrected Sir Patrick; 'but he
holds himself full of chivalry to them, and loves a spice of the errant
knight; ye may trust his honour. And mind ye,' he added, laughing, 'I've
never been told your name and quality.'

Which the Master of Angus returned with an equally canny laugh. The
young man, as he approached the Marquis, drew his head up, straightened
his tall form, brushed off the dust that obscured the bloody heart on
his breast, and altogether advanced with a step and bearing far
more like the great Earl's son than the man-at-arms of the Glenuskie
following; his eyes bespoke equality or more as they met those of
William de la Pole, and yet there was that in the glance which forbade
the idea of insolence, so that Suffolk, instead of remaining seated rose
to meet him and took him aside, standing as they talked.

'Sir Squire,' he said, 'for such I understand your degree in chivalry to
be.'

'I have not won my spurs,' said George.

'It is not our rule to take to foreign courts gentlemen from another
realm unknown to us,' proceeded Suffolk, with much civility; 'therefore,
unless any vow of chivalry binds you, I should be glad to know who it is
who does my banner the honour of riding in its company for a time. If a
secret, it is safe with me.'

George gave his name.

'That is the name of one of the chief nobles in Scotland,' said Suffolk.
'Do I see before me his son?' George bowed.

'Then, my Lord Douglas, am I permitted to ask wherefore this mean
disguise? Is it for some vow of chivalry, or for that which is the
guerdon of chivalry?' the Marquis added in a lower, softer tone, which,
however, extremely chafed the proud young Scot, all the more that he
felt himself blushing.

'My Lord,' he said, 'I am not bound to render a reason to any save my
father, from whom I hope for letters shortly.'

To his further provocation Suffolk smiled meaningly, and answered--

'I understand. But if my Lord Douglas would honour my suite by assuming
the place that befits him, I should be happy that aught of mine should
serve--'

'I am beholden to you, my Lord, for the offer,' replied George, somewhat
roughly. 'Whatever I make use of must be my father's or my own. All I
crave of you is to keep my secret, and not make me the common talk.
Have I your licence to depart?'

Wherewith, tall, irate, and shamefaced, the Master of Angus stalked aw