thee and come hither again, prithee be wary in that coming, lest in
venturing thou have thine ears clipped in most unknightly fashion."

That evening, as he and Gascoyne sat together on a bench under the trees
in the great quadrangle, Myles told of his adventure of the afternoon,
and his friend listened with breathless interest.

"But, Myles," cried Gascoyne, "did the Lady Anne never once seem proud
and unkind?"

"Nay," said Myles; "only at first, when she chid me for falling through
the roof of their arbor. And to think, Francis! Lady Anne herself
bade me hold the Lady Alice as my true lady, and to serve her in all
knightliness!" Then he told his friend that he was going to the privy
garden again on the next Saturday, and that the Lady Anne had given him
permission so to do.

Gascoyne gave a long, wondering whistle, and then sat quite still,
staring into the sky. By-and-by he turned to his friend and said, "I
give thee my pledge, Myles Falworth, that never in all my life did I
hear of any one that had such marvellous strange happenings befall him
as thou."


Whenever the opportunity occurred for sending a letter to Crosbey-Holt,
Myles wrote one to his mother; and one can guess how they were treasured
by the good lady, and read over and over again to the blind old Lord as
he sat staring into darkness with his sightless eyes.

About the time of this escapade he wrote a letter telling of those