The Scottish knight hesitated and coloured, yet answered at last:

"Willingly, my lord of Gilsland, but I am poorly lodged," and led the
way to his temporary abode.

"This is a strange tale, Sir Thomas," said the king, when he had heard
the report. "Art thou sure that this Scottish man is a tall man and
true?"

"I cannot say, my lord," replied the jealous borderer; "I have ever
found the Scots fair and false, but the man's bearing is that of a true
man, and I warrant you have noted the manner in which he bears himself
as a knight. He hath been fully well spoken of."

"And justly, Thomas," said the king. "Yes, I have indeed marked the
manner in which this knight does his devoir, and he had ere now tasted
your bounty but that I have also marked his audacious presumption."

"My liege," said the Baron of Gilsland, "your majesty will pardon me to
remind you that I have by mine office right to grant liberty to men of
gentle blood, to keep a hound or two within the camp, and besides, it
were a sin to harm a thing so noble as this gentleman's dog, the most
perfect creature of heaven, of the noblest northern breed."

The king laughed.

"Well, thou hast given him leave to keep the hound, so there is an end
of it. But to this piece of learned heathenness--say'st thou the Scot
met him in the desert?"