"Nay, nay, I have been happy here with you at Tilford."

"We are very poor, Nigel. I do not know where we may find the
money to fit you for the wars. Yet we have good friends. There
is Sir John Chandos, who has won such credit in the French wars
and who rides ever by the King's bridle-arm. He was your father's
friend and they were Squires together. If I sent you to court
with a message to him he would do what he could."

Nigel's fair face flushed. "Nay, Dame Ermyntrude, I must find my
own gear, even as I have found my own horse, for I had rather ride
into battle in this tunic than owe my suit to another."

"I feared that you would say so, Nigel; but indeed I know not how
else we may get the money," said the old woman sadly. "It was
different in the days of my father. I can remember that a suit of
mail was but a small matter in those days, for in every English
town such things could be made. But year by year since men have
come to take more care of their bodies, there have been added a
plate of proof here and a cunning joint there, and all must be
from Toledo or Milan, so that a knight must have much metal in his
purse ere he puts any on his limbs."

Nigel looked up wistfully at the old armor which was slung on the
beams above him. "The ash spear is good," said he, "and so is the
oaken shield with facings of steel. Sir Roger FitzAlan handled
them and said that he had never seen better. But the armor--"

Lady Ermyntrude shook her old head and laughed. "You have your
father's great soul, Nigel, but you have not his mighty breadth of