On July 14 Prosper left Wanmeeting at a gallop, in the driving rain.

There had been thunder and a change in the weather; the roads were

heavy and the brooks brimming; but by noon he was in the plain, and by

night at One Ash, a lonely dead tree as often gallows as not. There he

slept in his cloak. Next morning he was early in the saddle, and had

reached the fringe of Goltres Heath by breakfast time--if the hour

without the thing can be called by such a comfortable name.

He knew there was a cross-road somewhere near by from Goltres to

Hauterive Town. He should go warily, for if the first were invested

there must needs be communications with the base, which was Hauterive.

Sure enough, he had not seen the finger-post before he saw the pikes.

There were three mounted men there, one of whom had his face to the

north and was shading his eyes to spy over the heath. In a dozen more

strides (for he was at no pains to skulk from three troopers) a man

saw him, gave a shout and spurred over the heather. Prosper pulled his

horse into a gallop, resolved to bring things to a quick conclusion.

Spear in rest he came down on his fellow like a gale of wind.

The man swerved at the onset; Prosper rocketed into him; horse and man

went over in a heap. "Bungler," cried Prosper, and went on. The other

two faced him together standing. Prosper drove in between them, and

had one of them off at the cost of a snapt spear. He turned on the

other with his sword whirling round his head.

"Quarter, Messire!" cried the trooper, "here comes one of my betters

for you."

In effect, a knight on a chestnut horse was coming from Goltres, a

most resplendent knight in golden armour, with yellow trappings

slashed and fluttering about him.

"The Gold Knight!" said Prosper, drawing a sharpish breath; "this is

better than I looked for. My man," he went on, turning, "I have

measured you with my eye. I think the sign-post will bear you."

"I have no doubt of it, Messire," said the man ruefully. "You shall

put it to the proof so sure as I live," continued Prosper, "if you

stir from where you stand. I have to speak with your master."

"Oh, make yourself quite easy, Messire, and trust me," said the man;

"I see with whom I have to deal."

"Then deal not with him, my friend," said Prosper, and went to meet

the Golden Knight.

The Golden Knight set spear in rest and came cantering down the track.

Prosper let him come. When he was within hail, "Put up your spear,

dame," said he, "and listen."




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