“High lineage?” said the earl, with a smile and a look of inquiry.
“We had supposed him of thy kindred; he bears every sign of noblesse and does not disgrace it,” said the prior, himself of the kindred of the “lords of the eagle.”
“He is the son of a brother crusader.”
“The father is not living?”
“No, he fell in Palestine, within sight of the earthly Jerusalem, and I trust has found admittance into the Jerusalem which is above; he committed the boy to my care—
“But let them bring young Hubert hither.”
The prior tinkled a silver bell, which lay upon the table, and a lay brother appeared, to whom he gave the necessary order. A knock at the door was soon heard, and a lad of some fourteen years entered in obedience to the prior’s summons, and stood at first abashed before the great earl.
Yet he was not a lad wanting in self confidence; he was tall and slender, his features were regular, his hair and eyes light, his face a shapely oval; there was a winning expression on the features, and altogether it was a persuasive face.
“Dost thou remember me, my son?” asked the earl, as the boy knelt on one knee, and kissed his hand gracefully.
“It seems many years since thou didst leave me here, my lord.”