banished from the memory.

It was a large grey-white countenance, with high cheek-bones and
colourless lips, which were continually working one upon the other.
Black eyes were set close together under heavy brows, and a long thin
nose curved between them like the beak of an unclean bird.

"Earl William," said the marshal, "I give you greeting in the name of
our common liege lord, Charles, King of France, and also in that of
his son, the Dauphin Louis. I bring you also a further token of their
good-will, in that I hail you heir to the great estates and dignities
of your father and grandfather, sometime Dukes of Touraine and vassals
premier of the King of France."

The young man bowed, but in spite of the interest of his message, the
marshal caught his eyes resting upon the face of the lady who rode
beside him.

"To this I add that which, save for the message of the King, my
master, ought fitly to have come first. I present you to this fair
lady, my sister-in-law, the Damosel Sybilla de Thouars, maid of honour
to your high princess Margaret of Scotland, who of late hath expanded
into a yet fairer flower under the sun of our land of France."

The Earl dismounted and threw the reins of his horse to Malise, whose
face wore an expression of bitterest disappointment and instinctive
hatred. Then he went to the side of the Lady Sybilla, and taking her
hand he bowed his head over it, touching the glove to his lips with
every token of respect. Still bareheaded, he took the reins of her
palfrey and led her to the stand reserved for the Queen of Beauty.