"I never heard of him, my lord; but I know that Dom Galors' name is De

Born."

"Hum," said Prosper; "he has taken all he can get, it appears. And

does he still carry the shield and arms he had before?"

She told him, yes; and that all his company carried his colours, black

and white, upon their banneroles and the trappings of their horses.

"In fact our monk sets up for a lord--Messire Galors de Born?"

"So he is named among his men, lord," said Isoult.

"But wait a minute. Do you know the man's name before he entered

religion?"

"It was De Born, my lord, as I understood. But I have heard him also

called Born."

Prosper thought again, shook his head, made nothing of it, and so kept

it for his need.

Next day before dinner he came into the hall leading a black-haired

boy by the hand. He went up to the Countess's chair between the ranked

assembly.

"My lady Countess," says he, "suffer my page Roy to kiss your hand. He

loves me, and I him, if for no better reason than that he does me so

much credit. He alone in my father's house has dared it, I may tell

you. Take him in then for my sake, madam. The master's master should

be the servant's master."

The Countess smiled.

"He is certainly welcome on this showing," she said, "as well as on

others. That must be a good servant for whom his master forsakes not

only his friends but his supper." Then turning to Isoult, "Well, Roy,"

she asked, "and art thou whole again?"

"Yes, please my lady," said Isoult.

"Then thou shalt kiss my hand for thy master's sake!" returned the

Countess, after looking keenly at the girl.

Isoult knelt and kissed the white hand. The Countess beckoned to one

of her pages.

"Go now, Roy, with Balthasar," said she. "He will show thee whatever

is needful to be known. Afterwards thou shalt come into hall and serve

at thy lord's chair. And so long as he is here thou shalt serve him,

and sleep at his chamber door. I am sure that thou art faithful and

worthy of so much at my hands. And now, Prosper," she turned to say,

as if that business were happily done, "you shall finish your story of

the Princess of Tunis and the Neapolitan barber, which you broke off

so abruptly yestereven. Then we will go to supper."

The audience was over; Prosper received his wife's reverence with a

blush, sighed as he saw her back out of the presence, and sighed still

more as he turned to his task of entertaining the great lady his

hostess.

Isoult was led away by Balthasar into the pages' quarters, and escaped

thence with an examination which was not so searching as it might have

been had she not passed for squire to such a redoubtable smiter. She

was not long finding out that Prosper was the god of all the youth in

High March. His respect won her respect, though it could win him no

more from her. She heard their glowing reports, indeed, with a certain

scorn--to think that they should inform her of him, forsooth! From the

buttery she was taken to run the gauntlet of the women in the

servants' hall. Here the fact that she made a very comely boy--a boy

agile, dark-eyed, and grave, who looked to have something in reserve--

worked her turn where Prosper's prowess might have failed her. The

women found her frugality of speech piquant; it laid down for her the

lines of a reputation for experienced gallantry--the sort which asks a

little wearily, Is this worth my while? It seemed to them that in

matters of love Roy might be hard to please. This caused a stir in one

or two bosoms. A certain Melot, a black-eyed girl, plump, and an easy

giggler, avowed in strict confidence to her room-fellow that night,

that her fate had been told her by a Bohemian--a slight and dark-eyed

youth was to be her undoing. You will readily understand that this was

duly reported by the room-fellow to Balthasar, and by him to Isoult,

following the etiquette observed in such matters. Isoult frowned, said

little of it, and thought less.




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