“Perhaps it is for this reason that my lord wishes to borrow money.”
Again he shrugged his shoulders, and as we entered the shop I threw back the hood from off my head upon which I wore a merchant’s cap of velvet. The lady Blanche caught sight of me and started.
“Surely, surely,” she began, “you are he who shot the three arrows at the cave’s mouth at Hastings.”
“Yes, my lady, and did your hawk escape the dogs upon the London road?”
“Nay, it was crippled and died, which was the first of many troubles, for I think my luck rode away with you that day, Master Hubert of Hastings,” she added with a sigh.
“There are other hawks and luck returns,” I replied, bowing. “Perhaps this trinket will bring it back to you, my lady,” and taking the snake-surrounded ruby heart, I proffered it to her with another bow.
“Oh!” she said, her blue eyes shining with pleasure, “oh! it is beautiful, but whence is the price to come for so costly a thing?”
“I think the matter is one that can wait.”
At that moment the lord Deleroy broke in, saying,
“So you are the man who slew the French knight with an ancient sword, and afterwards shot three other Frenchmen with three shafts, sending one of them through shield and mail and body, a tale that was spoken of afterwards, even in London. God’s truth! you should be serving the King in the wars, not yourself behind the counter.”