e fellowship, no more. And let me tell you, my
young master, my conscience it pricketh me even now for letting you turn
your back thus on fortune and peaceful days. A truer friend than I had
ta'en and somewhat hamstrung thee. Then hadst thou been fain to lie
smarting at the 'Tete d'Or' a month or so; yon skittish lass had nursed
thee tenderly, and all had been well. Blade I had in hand to do't, but
remembering how thou hatest pain, though it be but a scratch, my craven
heart it failed me at the pinch." And Denys wore a look of humble
apology for his lack of virtuous resolution when the path of duty lay so
clear.

Gerard raised his eyebrows with astonishment at this monstrous but
thoroughly characteristic revelation; however, this new and delicate
point of friendship was never discussed; viz., whether one ought in
all love to cut the tendon Achilles of one's friend. For an incident
interposed.

"Here cometh one in our rear a-riding on his neighbour's mule," shouted
Denys.

Gerard turned round. "And how know ye 'tis not his own, pray?"

"Oh, blind! Because he rides it with no discretion."

And in truth the man came galloping like a fury. But what astonished the
friends most was that on reaching them the rustic rider's eyes opened
saucer-like, and he drew the rein so suddenly and powerfully, that the
mule stuck out her fore-legs, and went sliding between the pedestrians
like a four-legged table on castors.

"I trow ye are from the 'Tete d'Or?'" They assented. "Which of ye is the
younger?"

"He that was born the later," said Denys, winking at his companion.

"Gramercy for the news."

"Come, divine then!"

"And shall. Thy beard is ripe, thy fellow's is green; he shall be the
younger; here, youngster." And he held him out a paper packet. "Ye left
this at the 'Tete d'Or,' and our mistress sends it ye."

"Nay, good fellow, methinks I left nought." And Gerard felt his pouch.
etc.

"Would ye make our burgess a liar," said the rustic reproachfully; "and
shall I have no pourboire?" (still more reproachfully); "and came ventre
a terre."

"Nay, thou shalt have pourboire," and he gave him a small coin.

"A la bonne heure," cried the clown, and his features beamed with
disproportionate joy. "The Virgin go with ye; come up, Jenny!" and back
he went "stomach to earth," as his nation is pleased to call it.

Gerard undid the packet; it was about six inches square, and inside it
he found another packet, which contained a