round him with spanner
and wrench, fixing bolts and twisting rivets.

"How is that, my fair sir?" cried the armorer as he drew the bassinet
over the head and fastened it to the camail which extended to the
shoulders. "I swear by Tubal Cain that it fits you as the shell fits the
crab! A finer suit never came from Italy or Spain."

Nigel stood in front of a burnished shield which served as a mirror,
and he turned this way and that, preening himself like a little shining
bird. His smooth breastplate, his wondrous joints with their deft
protection by the disks at knee and elbow and shoulder, the
beautifully flexible gauntlets and sollerets, the shirt of mail and the
close-fitting greave-plates were all things of joy and of beauty in his
eyes. He sprang about the shop to show his lightness, and then running
out he placed his hand on the pommel and vaulted into Pommers' saddle,
while Wat and his boy applauded in the doorway.

Then springing off and running into the shop again he clanked down upon
his knees before the image of the Virgin upon the smithy wall. There
from his heart he prayed that no shadow or stain should come upon his
soul or his honor whilst these arms incased his body, and that he might
be strengthened to use them for noble and godly ends. A strange turn
this to a religion of peace, and yet for many a century the sword and
the faith had upheld each other and in a darkened world the best ideal
of the soldier had turned in some dim groping fashion toward the light.
"Benedictus dominus deus meus qui docet manus meas ad Praelium et
digitos meos ad bellum!" There spoke the soul of the knightly soldier.

So the armor was trussed upon the armorer's mule and went back with them
to Tilford, where Nigel put it on once more for the pleasure of the Lady
Ermyntrude, who clapped her skinny hands and shed tears of mingled pain
and joy--pain that she should lose him, joy that he should go so bravely
to the wars. As to her own future, it had been made easy for her, since
it was arranged that a steward should look to the Tilford estate whilst
she had at her disposal a suite of rooms in royal Windsor, where with
other venerable dames of her own age and standing she could spend the
twilight of her days discussing long-forgotten scandals and whispering
sad things about the grandfathers and the grandmothers of the young
courtiers all around them. There Nigel might leave her with an easy mind
when he turned his face to France.