“I pray you,” interposed a third squire, “wit you who is yon youth that rideth by the King’s left hand?”
“The tall, pale, fair-haired youth on the white horse.”
“He.”
“That is the Lord Marnell—a new favourite.”
“The Lord Marnell! Is he a kinsman of the Lady Marnell, who—”
“Hush! Yes, her son.”
“His father is dead, also, then?”
“His father was beheaded about twelve years gone, on account of having taken part in a rebellion, got up by the friends of King Richard; but it was said at the time privily, that an’ he had not been suspected of Lollardism, his part in the rebellion might have been forgiven.”
“Where, then, dwelt this youth, his son?”
“In the North, I ween, somewhere, with his grandmother, who hath died not long since. Then the young Lord came down to seek his fortune in London and the King’s Grace saw him, and fancied him.”