other of the contending authorities, the Seneschal and the Squire, were gathered round the steps, where the armourer was displaying, with many an encomium, his bundles of lances, his real Toledo blades, and his helmets of the choicest fashion.  Gaston d’Aubricour and Ralph were disputing respecting a certain suit of armour, which the latter disapproved, because it had no guards for the knees, while the former contended that the only use for such protections was to disable a man from walking, and nearly from standing when once unhorsed.

“In my day, Master d’Aubricour, it was not the custom for a brave man-at-arms to look to being unhorsed; but times are changed.”

“Ay, that they are, Master Penrose, for in our day we do not give ourselves over the moment we are down, and lie closed up in our shells like great land tortoises turned on their backs, waiting till some one is good enough to find his way through our shell with the misericorde.”

“Peace, peace, Gaston,” said the Knight.  “If we acquit ourselves as well as our fathers, we shall have little to be ashamed of.  What think you of this man’s gear?”

“That I could pick up a better suit for half the price at old Battista, the Lombard’s at Bordeaux; nevertheless, since young Eustace would be the show of the camp if he appeared there provided in Ralph’s fashion, it may be as well to see whether there be any reasonableness in this old knave.”

Before the question was decided, the trampling of horses was heard, and there rode into the court an elderly man, whose dress and bearing showed him to be of consideration, accompanied by a youth of eighteen or nineteen, and attended by two servants.  Sir Reginald and his brother immediately stepped forward to receive them.

“Sir Philip Ashton,” said the former, “how is it with you?  This is friendly in you to come and bid us farewell.”

“I grieve that it should be farewell, Sir Reginald,” said the old Knight, dismounting whilst Eustace held his stirrup; “our country can ill spare such men as you.  Thanks, my young friend Eustace.  See, Leonard, what good training will do for an Esquire; Eustace has already caught that air and courteous demeanour that cannot be learnt here among us poor Knights of Somerset.”

This was to his son, who, with a short abrupt reply to the good-natured greeting of Sir Reginald, had scrambled down from his saddle, and stood fixing his large gray eyes upon Gaston, whose tall active figure and lively dark countenance seemed to afford him an inexhaustible subject of study.  The Squire was presented by name to Sir Philip, received a polite compliment, and replying with a bow, turned to the youth with the ready courtesy of one willing to relieve the shyness of an awkward stranger.  “We were but now discussing the merit between damasked steel and chain mail, what opinion do you bring to aid us?” A renewed stare, an inarticulate muttering, and Master Leonard turned away and almost hid his face in the mane of his horse, whilst his father attempted to make up for his incivility by a whole torrent of opinions, to which Gaston listened with the outward submission due from a Squire, but with frequent glances, accompanied by a tendency to elevate shoulder or eyebrow, which Eustace understood full well to convey that the old gentleman knew nothing whatever on the subject.