"Wouldst thou lie to escape it?"
"No, God helping me. That is, I would do my best."
The Baron drew a long breath. There was something in the youth which fascinated him. He loved to hear him speak; he revelled in the tones of his voice; he even liked to see the contest between his natural courage and truthfulness and the sense of fear. But he could protract it no longer, because it pained while it pleased.
"Boy, wilt thou enter my service?"
"I belong to my grandsire."
"Wouldst thou not wish to be a knight?"
"Nay, unless I could be a true knight."
"What is that?"
"One who keeps his vow to succour the oppressed, and never draw sword save in the cause of God and right."