CHAPTER XVIII. HOW SIR NIGEL LORING PUT A PATCH UPON HIS EYE.

-pipe.Seeallalongthebankshowthepageswaterthehorses,andtherebeyondthetownhowtheygallopthemovertheplain!Foreveryhorseyouseeabeltedknighthathherbergageinthetown,for,asIlearn,themen-at-armsandarchershavealreadygoneforwardtoDax.” “Itrust,Aylward,”saidSirNigel,comingupondeck,“thatthemenarereadyfortheland.Gotellthemthattheboatswillbeforthemwithinthehour.” Thearcherraisedhishandinsalute,andhastenedforward.InthemeantimeSirOliverhadfollowedhisbrotherknight,andthetwopacedthepooptogether,SirNigelinhisplum-coloredvelvetsuitwithflatcapofthesame,adornedinfrontwiththeLadyLoring'sgloveandgirtroundwithacurlingostrichfeather.Thelustyknight,ontheotherhand,wascladintheverylatestmode,withcote-hardie,doublet,pourpoint,court-pie,andpaltockofolive-green,pickedoutwithpinkandjaggedattheedges.Aredchaperonorcap,withlonghangingcornette,satdaintilyonthebackofhisblack-curledhead,whilehisgold-huedshoesweretwistedupalapoulaine,asthoughthetoeswereshootingforthatendrilwhichmighthopeintimetoentwineitselfaroundhismassiveleg. “Oncemore,SirOliver,”saidSirNigel,lookingshorewardswithsparklingeyes,“dowefindourselvesatthegateofhonor,thedoorwhichhathsooftenledustoallthatisknightlyandworthy.Therefliestheprince'sbanner,anditwouldbewellthatwehasteashoreandpayourobeisancetohim.Theboatsalreadyswarmfromthebank.” “Thereisagoodlyhostelnearthewestgate,whichisfamedforthestewingofspicedpullets,”remarkedSirOliver.“Wemighttaketheedgeofourhungeroffereweseektheprince,forthoughhistablesaregaywithdamaskandsilverheisnotrenchermanhimself,andhathnosympathyforthosewhoarehisbetters.” “Hisbetters!” “Hisbettersbeforethetranchoir,lad.Sniffnottreasonwherenoneismeant.IhaveseenhimsmileinhisquietwaybecauseIhadlookedforthefourthtimetowardsthecarvingsquire.Andindeedtowatchhimdallyingwithalittlegobbetofbread,orsippinghiscupofthrice-wateredwine,isenoughtomakeamanfeelshameathisownhunger.Yetwarandglory,mygoodfriend,thoughwellenoughintheirway,willnotservetotightensuchabeltasclaspsmywaist.” “Howreadyouthatcoatwhichhangsoveryondergalley,Alleyne?”askedSirNigel. “Argent,abendvertbetweencotisesdancettegules.” “Itisanortherncoat.IhaveseenitinthetrainofthePercies.Fromtheshields,thereisnotoneofthesevesselswhichhathnotknightorbaronaboard.Iwouldmineeyeswerebetter.Howreadyouthisupontheleft?” “Argentandazure,abarrywavyofsix.” “Ha,itisthesignoftheWiltshireStourtons!AndtherebeyondIseetheredandsilveroftheWorsleysofApuldercombe,wholikemyselfareofHampshirelineage.ClosebehindusisthemolinecrossofthegallantWilliamMolyneux,andbesideitthebloodychevronsoftheNorforkWoodhouses,withtheamuletsoftheMusgravesofWestmoreland.BySt.Paul!itwouldbeaverystrangethingifsonobleacompanyweretogatherwithoutsomenotabledeedofarmsarisingfromit.Andhereisourboat,SirOliver,soitseemsbesttomethatweshouldgototheabbeywithoursquires,leavingMasterHawtaynetohavehisownwayintheunloading.” Thehorsesbothofknightsandsquireswerespeedilyloweredintoabroadlighter,andreachedtheshorealmostassoonastheirmasters.SirNigelbenthiskneedevoutlyasheputfootonland,andtakingasmallblackpatchfromhisbosomheboundittightlyoverhislefteye. “MaytheblessedGeorgeandthememoryofmysweetlady-loveraisehighmyheart!”quothhe.“AndasatokenIvowthatIwillnottakethispatchfrommyeyeuntilIhaveseensomethingofthiscountryofSpain,anddonesuchasmalldeedasitliesinmetodo.AndthisIswearuponthecrossofmyswordanduponthegloveofmylady.” “Intruth,youtakemebacktwentyyears,Nigel,”quothSirOliver,astheymountedandrodeslowlythroughthewater-gate.“AfterCadsand,IdeemthattheFrenchthoughtthatwewereanarmyoftheblind,fortherewasscar