This proposal of the Bishop of Grenoble seemed excellent to all present, and Pierre Bayard was formally presented to him by his father, who said:  “Take him, my lord, and may God grant that he prove a worthy gift and do you honour by his life.”  The Bishop at once sent in haste to Grenoble with orders to his own tailor to bring velvet, satin, and all things needful to make a noble page presentable.  It was a night to be long remembered in the castle, for cunning hands were pressed into the service under the eyes of the master tailor, who stitched away through the long hours in such style that next morning all was ready.  A proud and happy boy was Bayard the next morning when, after breakfast, clad in his fine new clothes, he rode the chestnut horse into the courtyard before the admiring gaze, of all the company assembled to look upon him.

[Illustration:  A fine exhibition of horsemanship.]

When the spirited animal felt that he had such a light weight upon his back, while at the same time he was urged on with spurs, he began to prance about in the most lively fashion, and everybody expected to see the boy thrown off.  But Bayard kept his seat like a man of thirty, spurred on his horse, and galloped round and round the court, as brave as a lion, his eyes sparkling with delight.  An old soldier like his father thoroughly appreciated the lad’s nerve and spirit, and could scarcely help betraying the pride he felt in him.  But the wise Bishop probably thought that the lad had received quite as much notice as was good for him, and announced that he was ready to start, adding to his nephew:  “Now, my friend, you had better not dismount, but take leave of all the company.”

Bayard first turned to his father with a beaming countenance.  “My lord and father, I pray God that He may give you a good and long life, and trust that before you are taken from this world you may have good news of me.”  “My son, such is my prayer,” was the old man’s reply as he gave the boy his blessing.  Bayard then took leave of all the gentlemen present, one after the other.  Meantime the poor lady his mother was in her tower chamber, where she was busy to the last moment packing a little chest with such things as she knew her boy would need in his new life.  Although she was glad of the fair prospect before him, and very proud of her son, yet she could not restrain her tears at the thought of parting from him; for such is the way of mothers.

Yet when they came and told her, “Madame, if you would like to see your son he is on horseback all ready to start,” the good lady went bravely down to the little postern door behind the tower and sent for Pierre to come to her.  As the boy rode up proudly at her summons and bending low in his saddle took off his plumed cap in smiling salutation, he was a gallant sight for loving eyes to rest upon.  Bayard never forgot his mother’s parting words.  “Pierre, my boy, you are going into the service