"Aye; an the Earl take thee to service, thou'lt haply be taken as
squire."

Myles stared at them, and then of a sudden was aware that the young men
were talking of him. He knew it by the way they eyed him askance, and
spoke now and then in one another's ears. One of the four, a gay young
fellow, with long riding-boots laced with green laces, said a few words,
the others gave a laugh, and poor Myles, knowing how ungainly he must
seem to them, felt the blood rush to his cheeks, and shyly turned his
head.

Suddenly, as though stirred by an impulse, the same lad who had just
created the laugh arose from the bench, and came directly across the
room to where Myles and the bowman sat.

"Give thee good-den," said he. "What be'st thy name and whence comest
thou, an I may make bold so to ask?"

"My name is Myles Falworth," said Myles; "and I come from Crosbey-Dale
bearing a letter to my Lord."

"Never did I hear of Crosbey-Dale," said the squire. "But what seekest
here, if so be I may ask that much?"

"I come seeking service," said Myles, "and would enter as an esquire
such as ye be in my Lord's household."

Myles's new acquaintance grinned. "Thou'lt make a droll squire to wait
in a Lord's household," said he. "Hast ever been in such service?"