foreign land to them, albeit they had never been above ten leagues from
the mill where they had been born and brought up. Was not their mother
an Englishwoman? Had she not taught them the language of her country,
and begged them never to forget it? And could they not speak it now as
well as they spoke the language of Gascony -- better than they spoke the
French of the great realm to which Gascony in a fashion belonged?

The thought of travel always brings with it a certain exhilaration,
especially to the young and ardent, and thoughts of such a journey on
such a quest could not but be tinged with all the rainbow hues of hope.

"We will go; we will go right soon!" cried Gaston. "Would that we could
go tomorrow! Why have we lingered here so long, when we might have been
up and doing years ago?"

"Nay, Brother, we were but children years ago. We are not yet sixteen.
Yet methinks our manhood comes the faster to us for that noble blood
runs in our veins. But we will speak to Father Anselm. He has always
been our kindest friend. He will best counsel us whether to go forth, or
whether to tarry yet longer at home --"

"I will tarry no longer; I pant to burst my bonds," cried the impetuous
Gaston; and Raymond was in no whit less eager, albeit he had something
more of his mother's prudence and self-restraint.

"Methinks the holy Father will bid us go forth," he said thoughtfully.
"He has oft spoken to us of England and the Roy Outremer, and has ever
bidden us speak our mother's tongue, and not forget it here in these
parts where no man else speaks it. I trow he has foreseen the day when
we should go thither to claim our birthright. Our mother told him many