“Welcome, my trusty Reginald!” exclaimed he.  “I knew that the Lances of Lynwood would not be absent where knightly work is to be done.  Is my brother John arrived?”

“Yes, my Lord,” replied Reginald; “I parted from him but now as he rode to the castle, while I came to seek where to bestow my knaves.”

“I know you of old for a prudent man,” said the Prince, smiling; “the Provost Marshal hath no acquaintance with that gallant little band.  Methinks I see there a fair face like enough to yours to belong to another loyal Lynwood.”

“I could wish it were a little browner and more manly, my Lord,” said Reginald.  “It is my brother Eustace, who has been suffered (I take shame to myself for it) to tarry at home as my Lady’s page, till he looks as white as my Lady herself.”

“We will soon find a cure for that in the sun of Castile,” said Edward.  “You are well provided with Squires.  The men of Somerset know where good training is to be found for their sons.”

“This, my Lord, is the son of Sir Philip Ashton, a loyal Knight of our country.”

“He is welcome,” said the Prince.  “We have work for all.  Let me see you this evening at supper in my tent.”

“Well, Eustace, what sayest thou?” said Gaston, as the Prince rode on.

“A Prince to dream of, a Prince for whom to give a thousand lives!” said Eustace.

“And that was the Prince of Wales!” said Leonard.  “Why, he spoke just like any other man.”

The two tents of the Lances of Lynwood having been erected, and all arrangements made, the Knights and Squires set out for the Prince’s pavilion, the white curtains of which were conspicuous in the centre of the camp.  Within, it was completely lined with silk, embroidered with the various devices of the Prince:  the lions of England—­the lilies of France—­the Bohemian ostrich-plume, with its humble motto, the white rose, not yet an emblem of discord—­the blue garter and the red cross, all in gorgeous combination—­a fitting background, as it were, on which to display the chivalrous groups seen in relief against it.

At the upper end was placed a long table for the Prince and his guests, and here Sir Reginald took his seat, with many a hearty welcome from his friends and companions in arms, while Gaston led his comrades to the lower end, where Squires and pages were waiting for the provisions brought in by the servants, which they were to carry to their Knights.  Gaston was soon engaged in conversation with his acquaintance, to some of whom he introduced Eustace and Leonard, but the former found far more interesting occupation in gazing on the company seated at the upper table.