hat
stiffly, as if weary with riding, and receives the keys from the
extended hand with a sweet smile and a few kind words.

Let us gaze on the features of that king of old; gray haired,
prematurely gray; the eyebrows unlike in their curvature, giving a
quaint expression to the face, a mild and good-tempered face, but
somewhat deficient in character, forming the strongest contrast to
that tall commanding figure on his right hand, with the stern and
manly features, the greatest of the Edwards--a born king of men.

"Rise up, Sir Drogo, thou worthy knight."

"My liege, the honour of knighthood is not yet mine own."

"Ah, and yet so loyal!"

"For that reason, sire, not yet a knight; I was a page at
Kenilworth, and was expelled for my loyalty to my king, because I
could not restrain my indignation at the aspersions and
misrepresentations I daily heard."

"Ah, indeed," said the king, "then shalt thou receive the honour
from my own hands," and he gave him a slight blow with the flat of
the sword, which he then laid upon the reverently inclined head,
and added, "Rise up, Sir Drogo of Walderne."

"Methinks knighthood is too sacred to be thus hastily bestowed,"
muttered Prince Edward.

"Nay, my son, we have few loyal servants in the Andredsweald, and
those who honour us will we honour {32}."

The followers of Drogo made the place resound with their
acclamations. The multitude cried, "Largesse! Largesse!" and by
Drogo's direction coins (chiefly of small value) were freely
scattered to the accompaniment of the cry:

"Long live Sir Drogo of Walderne."

Then the royal standard was displayed on the watchtower, over the
banner of Walderne, and the common soldiers, in their thousands,
pitched their tents and kindled their fires on the open green
without, while those of gentler degree entered the castle, which
was not large enough to accommodate the rank and file.

The banquet that night was a goodly sight. The king sat at the head
of the board--his brother, King Richard, on his right hand (the
King of the Romans), Edward, afterwards "The Hammer of Scotland,"
on his father's left. Next to King Richard sat John Balliol, and
next to Prince Edward, Robert Bruce, father of the future king of
Scotland, and a great favourite both with prince and king.

Drogo did not sit down at his own board. He preferred, he said, to
play the page for the last time, and to wait upon his king, which
was honour enough for a young knight. On th