"Thou art not so skilled in fencing as Etienne; I should advise an hour or two in the tilt yard, and I can tell thee of some of his feints, which are not a little dangerous."
"Thanks, I shall not have too much time."
"Dost thou think the baron will give leave?"
"Yes; he hates me in his heart. Were I the better swordsman, he might not consent."
"I agree with thee--wert thou dead, Etienne would be heir of Aescendune. At all events, thou wilt go to confession and get thy soul in order--betake thyself to thy holy gear--men fight none the worse for a clear conscience. And I would ask the intercession of St. Michael--men speak well of him in Brittany, and tell how he fought a combat a outrance with Satan, wherein the latter came off none the better man."
"I shall see Father Elphege tonight--we are not heathen, we English."
"Ah! here comes Louis. Well, what news dost thou bring?"
"Good ones. Our lord permits the fight. You should have seen how stark and stern he looked when he saw his son's eyes. Wilfred, thou hast a fist like a smith. Wilt thou do as well with the sword?"
"Tomorrow will show."
"Well, it is quite right of thee to fight for thine own serfs; I would have fought for mine at Marmontier--none should have come between me and them. And I am glad we did not hurt the poor knave. Etienne will be a hard lord for thy people, if anything happens to thee."