who had recently come to Bordeaux to seek employment, formed a body
with whom Eustace trusted to be able to keep the disaffected in
check. Through vineyards and over gently swelling hills did their
course lead them, till, on the evening of the second day's journey,
the view to the south was shut in by more lofty and bolder peaks,
rising gradually towards the Pyrenees, and on the summit of a rock
overhanging a small rapid stream appeared the tall and massive
towers of a Castle, surmounted by the broad red cross of St. George,
and which their guide pronounced to be the Chateau Norbelle.

"A noble eyrie!" said Eustace, looking up and measuring it with his
eye. "Too noble to be sacrificed to the snaring of one poor Knight."

"Shame that such a knightly building should serve for such a nest
of traitors!" said Gaston. "Saving treachery, a dozen boys could
keep it against a royal host, provided they had half the spirit of
your little nephew."

"Let us summon the said traitors," said Eustace, blowing a blast on
his bugle. The gates were thrown wide open, the drawbridge lowered,
and beneath the portcullis stood the Seneschal, his bunch of keys at
his girdle. Both Eustace and Gaston cast searching glances upon him,
and his aspect made them for a moment doubt the truth of the warning.
A patch covered the lost eye, his moustache was shaved, his hair
appeared many shades lighter, as well as his beard, which had been
carefully trimmed, and altogether the obsequious Seneschal presented
a strong contrast to the dissolute reckless man-at-arms. The Knight
debated with himself, whether to let him perceive that he was
recognized; and deciding to watch his conduct, he asked by what
name to address him.