with peace and bid her adieu for a while.  She can be a false and treacherous friend, and well pleased am I that the bloody banner of true warfare is unfurled at last.  England is athirst for some great victory, for some gallant feat of arms which shall reward her for the burdens she has to pay to support our good soldiers.  For his people’s sake, as well as for his own honour, the King must strike some great blow ere he returns home and we who follow the Prince have sworn to follow him to the death and win our spurs at his side.

“Brother, say that thou wilt join our ranks.  Thou hast not forgotten our old dreams?  Thou hast not turned monk or friar?”

“Nay, or I should not now be here,” answered Raymond.  “No, Gaston, I have forgotten naught of the old dream; and I too have seen fighting in the south, where the King of France has mustered his greatest strength.  For we believed the Roy Outremer would land at Bordeaux and march to the help of my Lord Derby, who is waging war against the Count of Lille Jourdaine and the Duke of Bourbon in and around Gascony.  And, Gaston, the Sieur de Navailles has joined the French side, and is fighting in the van of the foe.  He has long played a double game, watching and waiting till victory seems secure for either one King or the other.  Now, having seen the huge force mustered by the King of France in the south, he seems to have resolved that the victory must remain with him, and has cast in his lot against the English cause.  So, Brother, if the great Edward wins his battles, and drives from his own fair territories the invading hosts of France, it may be that the Sieur do Navailles may be deprived of his ill-gotten lands and castles; and then, if thou hast won thy spurs —­”

Raymond paused, and Gaston’s eyes flashed at the thought.  But he had learned, even in these two years, something of the lesson of patience, and was now less confident of winning fame and fortune at one stroke than he had been when he had made his first step along the path that he believed would lead him by leaps and bounds to the desired haven.

“Then thou hast been there?  Hast thou seen the old places —­ the old faces?  Truly I have longed to visit Sauveterre once more; but all our plans are changed, and now men speak of naught but pressing on for Calais.  Where hast thou come from?”

“From the old home, Gaston, where for three months I and Roger have been.  What! dost thou not know Roger again?  In truth, he looks vastly different from what he did when thou sawest him last.  We are brothers in arms now, albeit he likes to call himself my servant.  We have never been parted since the day we snatched him from that evil place within the walls of Basildene.  We have been in safe shelter at the mill.  Honest Jean and Margot had the warmest welcome for us, and Father Anselm gave us holy words of welcome.  Everything there is as when we left.  Scarce could I believe that nigh upon three years will soon have fled since we