thing to smile at,
to trifle with. So she smiled, and, rising, swept him a splendid
reverence.

"I am your gallantry's very grateful servant," she whispered, having
much ado to keep from laughing in his face. The fatuous are easily
pacified.

"I hope you do not doubt my valor?" he asked, with some show of
reassurance.

"Indeed I have no doubt," Brilliana answered, with another courtesy.
The speech might have two meanings. Sir Blaise, unwilling to split
hairs, took it as balsam, and hurriedly turned the conversation.

"Well! well!" he hummed. "You seem nothing the worse for your
business."

"I am something the better," she said, softly. Perhaps Sir Blaise did
not hear her.

"Is it true," he asked, "that you harbor a Crop-ear in this house?"

"Indeed," Brilliana confirmed, "I hold him as hostage for the life of
Cousin Randolph. You know that he is a prisoner?"

"I heard that news with the rest of the budget," Sir Blaise answered.
"And what kind of a creature is your captive? Does he deafen you with
psalms, does he plague you with exhortations?"

Brilliana laughed merrily.

"No, no; 'tis a most wonderful wild-fowl. My people swear he is
mettled in all gentle arts, from the manage of horses to the casting
of a falcon."

Sir Blaise shook his staff in protest of indignation.

"Is it possible that such a rascal usurps the privileges of
gentlefolk?"

"He carries himself like a gentleman," Brilliana answered. "More's
the pity that he should be false to his king and his kind."

Sir Blaise smiled condescendingly.

"Believe me, dear lady, you are misled. A woman may be deceived by an
exterior. Doubtless he has picked up his gentility in the servants'
hall of some great house, and seeks to curry your favor by airing
it."

"He has persuaded those that are shrewd judges of men to praise him."

Again Sir Blaise laughed his fat laugh.

"Ha, ha! Shrewd judges of men. I will take no man's judgment but my
own of this rascal. Had I word with him you should soon see me set
him down."

Brilliana's glance wandering from the pied pomposity who strutted
before her, saw a sharp contrast through the yew-tree arch. A man in
sober habit was moving slowly over the grass in the direction of the
pleasaunce, moving slowly, for he was carrying an open book and his
eyes were fixed upon its pages. Truly the sombre Puritan made a
better figure than her swaggering neighbor. She looked up at Sir
Blaise with a pretty maliciousness i