A bitter smile curled Sir Giles's lip at this reply to his challenge,
and he regarded the young man fixedly, as if to grave his features upon
his memory. Perhaps they brought Mounchensey's father to mind, for Sir
Giles withdrew his gaze for a moment to reflect, and then looked again
at Jocelyn with fresh curiosity. If he had any doubts as to whom he
beheld, they were removed by Sir Francis, who managed to hiccup forth--

"'Tis he, Sir Giles--'tis Jocelyn Mounchensey."

"I thought as much," Sir Giles muttered. "A moment, young man," he
cried, waving his hand imperiously to his antagonist. "Your turn will
come presently."

And without bestowing further notice on Jocelyn, who resisted all his
neighbour's entreaties to him to sit down, Sir Giles advanced towards
the middle chamber, where he paused, and took off his cap, having
hitherto remained covered.

In this position, he looked like a grand inquisitor attended by his
familiars.




CHAPTER VIII.

Of Lupo Vulp, Captain Bludder, Clement Lanyere, and Sir Giles's other
Myrmidons.