e may wile away a little of the time that's left, and when you
have heard me you shall judge me, Kenneth. What say you?"

Despite the parlous condition whereunto the fear of the morrow had
reduced him, this new tone of Galliard's so wrought upon him then that
he was almost eager in his request that Sir Crispin should unfold his
story. And this the Tavern Knight then set himself to do.

CHAPTER VII. THE TAVERN KNIGHT'S STORY

Sir Crispin walked from the window by which he had been standing, to the
rough bed, and flung himself full length upon it. The only chair that
dismal room contained was occupied by Kenneth. Galliard heaved a sigh of
physical satisfaction.

"Fore George, I knew not I was so tired," he murmured. And with that he
lapsed for some moments into silence, his brows contracted in the frown
of one who collects his thoughts. At length he began, speaking in
calm, unemotional tones that held perchance deeper pathos than a more
passionate utterance could have endowed them with:

"Long ago--twenty years ago--I was, as I have said, an honourable lad,
to whom the world was a fair garden, a place of rosebuds, fragrant
with hope. Those, Kenneth, were my illusions. They are the illusions of
youth; they are youth itself, for when our illusions are gone we are
no longer young no matter what years we count. Keep your illusions,
Kenneth; treasure them, hoard them jealously for as long as you may."

"I dare swear, sir," answered the lad, with bitter humour, "that such
illusions as I have I shall treasure all my life. You forget, Sir
Crispin."

"'Slife, I had indeed forgotten. For the moment I had gone back twenty
years, and to-morrow was none so near." He laughed softly, as though his
lapse of memory amused him. Then he resumed:

"I was the only son, Kenneth, of the noblest gentleman that ever
lived--the heir to an ancient, honoured name, and to a castle as proud
and lands as fair and broad as any in England.

"They lie who say that from the dawn we may foretell the day. Never was
there a brighter dawn than that of my life; never a day so wasted; never
an evening so dark. But let that be.

"Our lands were touched upon the northern side by those of a house with
which we had been at feud for two hundred years and more. Puritans they
were, stern and haughty in their ungodly righteousness. They held us
dissolute because we enjoyed the life that God had given us, and there I
am told the hatred first began.