jewelled pendant, and upon his fist he carried a beautiful Iceland
falcon.

As Myles stood staring, he suddenly heard Gascoyne's voice whisper in
his ear, "Yon is my Lord; go forward and give him thy letter."

Scarcely knowing what he did, he walked towards the Earl like a machine,
his heart pounding within him and a great humming in his ears. As he
drew near, the nobleman stopped for a moment and stared at him, and
Myles, as in a dream, kneeled, and presented the letter. The Earl took
it in his hand, turned it this way and that, looked first at the bearer,
then at the packet, and then at the bearer again.

"Who art thou?" said he; "and what is the matter thou wouldst have of
me?"

"I am Myles Falworth," said the lad, in a low voice; "and I come seeking
service with you."

The Earl drew his thick eyebrows quickly together, and shot a keen
look at the lad. "Falworth?" said he, sharply--"Falworth? I know no
Falworth!"

"The letter will tell you," said Myles. "It is from one once dear to
you."

The Earl took the letter, and handing it to a gentleman who stood near,
bade him break the seal. "Thou mayst stand," said he to Myles; "needst
not kneel there forever." Then, taking the opened parchment again, he
glanced first at the face and then at the back, and, seeing its length,