uhomme.'

'Sire,' said Walter, looking puzzled, 'you must pardon me when I confess
that I comprehend not clearly the distinction.'

'Ah,' replied Louis, smiling, and shaking his head gravely, 'the
distinction is of much consequence; for know that by preuhomme I mean a
man who is valiant and bold in person, whereas by preudhomme I signify
one who is prudent, discreet, and who fears God, and has a good
conscience.'

Walter bowed again; and, being at a loss for words to answer, took
refuge in silence. In fact, he began to feel so awkward that he wished
nothing so fervently as that the interview would come to an end; and
Louis, after condescending to ask some more questions, and inculcate
some more lessons, dismissed him with words of encouragement, and gifted
him with an amulet in the form of a ring, which bore on it this
inscription--

Who wears me shall perform exploits,
And with great joy return.

As Walter left the king's presence to depart from the palace, he turned
to the knight who had been his conductor.

'On my faith, sir knight,' said he laughing, but rather nervously, 'this
reminds me more of the adventures which in childhood I have heard
related by pilgrims and pedlars at the chimney-corner, than aught I ever
expected to meet with in the real breathing busy world.'

'Indeed,' said Bisset, quietly; 'methinks there is nothing so very
wondrous about the business. It only seems to me that you have been born
with luck on your side--not my own case--and that you have, without
hazarding more than you are likely to do in the first battle with the
Saracens, gained the privilege of climbing some steps up the ladder that
leads to fortune and fame.'

'And yet,' observed Walter, as he laughed and looked at the ring which
Louis had bestowed on him, 'beshrew me if I have had the courage to ask
either the rank or name of the demoiselle to whom I had the fortune to
render the service that has made my existence known to this good and
pious king.'

'By the might of Mary,' exclaimed the knight, 'there is no reason why
you should remain in ignorance who the demoiselle is, or what is her
name. She is kinswoman of John de Brienne, who, in his day, figured as
King of Jerusalem, and kinswoman also of Baldwin de Courtenay, who now
reigns at Constantinople as Emperor of the East; and her name is Adeline
de Brienne.'

'Holy Katherine,' muttered Walter, again looking closely at the
inscription on the rin