“Why, you must know that Raymond de Corasse had helped himself to the tithes of a certain Church in Catalonia, whereby the Priest who claimed them said to him, ’Know that I will send thee a champion that thou wilt be more afraid of than thou hast hitherto been of me.’  Three months after, each night, in the Castle of Corasse, began such turmoil as never was known; raps at every door, and especially that of the Knight—­as if all the goblins in fairy-land had been let loose.  The Knight lay silent all one night; but the next, when the rioting was renewed as loud as ever, he leapt out of his bed, and bawled out, ’Who is it at this hour thus knocks at my chamber door?’ He was answered, ‘It is I.’  ’And who sends thee hither?’ asked the Knight.  ’The Clerk of Catalonia, whom thou hast much wronged.  I will never leave thee quiet until thou hast rendered him a just account.’  ‘What art thou called,’ said the Knight, ’who art so good a messenger?’ ‘Orthon is my name.’  But it fell out otherwise from the Clerk’s intentions, for Orthon had taken a liking to the Knight, and promised to serve him rather than the Clerk—­ engaging never to disturb the Castle—­for, indeed, he had no power to do ill to any.  Often did he come to the Knight’s bed by night, and pull the pillow from under his head—­”

“What was he like?” asked Tristan.

“The Lord de Corasse could not tell; he only heard him—­he never saw aught; for Orthon only came by night, and, having wakened him, would begin by saying, ‘he was come from England, Hungary, or elsewhere,’ and telling all the news of the place.”

“And what think you was he?”

“That was what our Lord, the Count de Foix, would fain have known, when he had much marveled at the tidings that were brought him by the Lord de Corasse, and had heard of the strange messenger who brought them.  He entreated the Knight to desire Orthon to show himself in his own proper form—­and then, having seen, to describe him.

“So at night, when Orthon came again, and plucked away the pillow, the Knight asked him from whence he came?  ‘From Prague, in Bohemia,’ answered Orthon.  ‘How far is it?’—­’Sixty days’ journey.’  ’Hast thou returned thence in so short a time?’—­’I travel as fast as the wind, or faster.’  ‘What! hast thou got wings?’—­’Oh, no.’  ’How, then, canst thou fly so fast?’—­’That is no business of yours!’ ‘No,’ said the Knight—­’I should like exceedingly to see what form thou hast.’—­’That concerns you not,’ replied Orthon; ’be satisfied that you hear me.’  ‘I should love thee better had I seen thee,’ said the Knight,—­whereupon Orthon promised that the first thing he should see to-morrow, on quitting his bed, should be no other than himself.”

“Ha! then, I wager that he saw one of the black cats that played round young Ashton’s bed.”