p thy head
with this dagger hilt. Thou art a silly fellow, Francis, to talk so. But
tell me, hast thou heard who rides with my Lord?"

"Yea, I heard Wilkes say anon that it was Sir James Lee."

"I am right glad of that," said Myles; "for then he will show me what to
do and how to bear myself. It frights me to think what would hap should
I make some mistake in my awkwardness. Methinks Lord George would never
have me with him more should I do amiss this day."

"Never fear," said Gascoyne; "thou wilt not do amiss."

And now, at last, the Earl, Lord George, and all their escort were
ready; then the orders were given to horse, the bugle sounded, and away
they all rode, with clashing of iron hoofs and ringing and jingling
of armor, out into the dewy freshness of the early morning, the slant
yellow sun of autumn blazing and flaming upon polished helmets and
shields, and twinkling like sparks of fire upon spear points. Myles's
heart thrilled within him for pure joy, and he swelled out his sturdy
young breast with great draughts of the sweet fresh air that came
singing across the sunny hill-tops. Sir James Lee, who acted as the
Earl's equerry for the day, rode at a little distance, and there was an
almost pathetic contrast between the grim, steadfast impassiveness of
the tough old warrior and Myles's passionate exuberance of youth.

At the head of the party rode the Earl and his brother side by side,
each clad cap-a-pie in a suit of Milan armor, the cuirass of each
covered with a velvet juppon embroidered in silver with the arms and
quarterings of the Beaumonts. The Earl wore around his neck an "S S"
collar, with a jewelled St. George hanging from it, and upon his head a
vizored bascinet, ornamented with a wreath covered with black and yellow
velvet and glistening with jewels.

Lord George, as was said before, was clad in a beautiful suit of ribbed
Milan armor. It was rimmed with a thin thread of gold, and, like his
brother, he wore a bascinet wreathed with black and yellow velvet.

Behind the two brothers and their equerries rode the rest in their
proper order--knights, gentlemen, esquires, men-at-arms--to the number,
perhaps, of two hundred and fifty; spears and lances aslant, and
banners, permons, and pencels of black and yellow fluttering in the warm
September air.

From the castle to the town they rode, and then across the bridge, and
thence clattering up through the stony streets, where the folk looked
down upon t