her.

"He loved and rode away, like all your race!" cried the girl, with a
strange sudden flicker of passion which died as suddenly. "But I think
it not of you, Lord William. I know you could be true--that is, where
you truly loved."

And as she spoke she looked at him with a questioning eagerness in her
eyes which was almost pitiful.

"I do love and I am loyal," said the young man, with a grave quiet
which became him well, and ought to have served him better with a
woman than many protestations.

CHAPTER XX

ANDRO THE PENMAN GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF HIS STEWARDSHIP

In the fighting of that day James Douglas, the second son of the fat
Earl of Avondale, won the prize, worsting his elder brother William in
the final encounter. The victor was a nobly formed youth, of strength
and stature greater than those of his brother, but without William of
Avondale's haughty spirit and stern self-discipline.

For James Douglas had the easy popular virtues which would drink with
any drawer or pricker at a tavern board, and made him ready to clap
his last gold Lion on the platter to pay for the draught--telling, as
like as not, the good gossip of the inn to keep the change, and (if
well favoured) give him a kiss therefor. The Douglas _cortege_ rode
home amid the shoutings of the holiday makers who thronged all the
approaches to the ford in order to see the great nobles and their
trains ride by, and Sholto and his men had much trouble to keep these
spectators as far back as was decent and seemly.

The Earl summoned his victorious cousins, William and James, to ride
with him and the tourney's Queen of Beauty. But William proved even
more silent than usual, and his dark face and upright carriage caused
him to sit his charger as if carved in iron. Jolly James, on the other
hand, attempted a jest or two which savoured rustically enough.
Nevertheless, he received the compliments of the Lady Sybilla on his
courage and address with the equanimity of a practised soldier. He was
already, indeed, the best knight in Scotland, even as he was twelve
years after when in the lists of Stirling he fought with the famous
Messire Lalain, the Burgundian champion.

Earl William dropped behind to speak a moment with Sholto, and to give
him the orders which he was to convey to the provost of the games with
regard to the encounter of the morrow.

La Joyeuse took the opportunity of addressing her nearer and more
silent companion.

"You are, I