n this place, and
now your quickness of comprehension will tell you that the business
wherewith I permit myself to break your leisure will brook no tarrying.
Let me say that I take it not upon me to defend the words of my cousin,
who insulted a woman, and, as I believe, a messenger from the blessed
Saints that love France."

I looked at him in some amazement. He was a young man of about my own
years, delicately and richly clad in furs, silks, and velvets, a great
gold chain hanging in loops about his neck, a gold brooch with an ancient
Roman medal in his cap. But the most notable thing in him was his thick
golden hair, whence La Hire had named him "Capdorat," because he was so
blond, and right keen in war, and hardy beyond others. And here he was
challenging me, who stood before him in a prentice's hodden grey!

"Sir," I said, "I could wish you a better quarrel, but not more courtesy.
Many a gentleman seeing me such as I am, would bid me send, ere he
crossed swords with me, to my own country for my bor-brief, {18} which I
came away in too great haste to carry with me. Nay, I was but now to set
forth and buy me a sword and other accoutrements; natheless, from the
armoury here they may equip me with sword and body armour."

"Of body-armour take no thought," he answered, "for this quarrel is of a
kind that must needs be voided in our smocks"; he meaning that it was "a
outrance," till one of us fell.

Verily, now I saw that this was not to be a matter of striking sparks
from steel, as Robin and I had done, but of life and death.

"I shall be the more speedily at your service," I made answer; and as I
spoke Randal and Robin came forth from the "dedans," the sport being
over. They joined me, and I told them in few words my new business, my
adversary tarrying, cap in hand, till I had spoken, and then proclaiming
himself Aymar de Puiseux, a gentleman of Dauphine, as indeed my friends
knew.

"I shall wait on you, with your leave, at the isle in the river, where it
is of custom, opposite the booths of the gold-workers," quoth he, "about
the hour of noon"; and so, saluting us, he went, as he said, to provide
himself with friends.

"Blood of Judas!" quoth Robin, who swore terribly in his speech, "you
have your hands full, young Norman. He is but now crept out of the rank
of pages, but when the French and English pages fought a valliance of
late, under Orleans, none won more praise than he, who was captain of the
Frenc