"Messire, you will perceive that it is correctly addressed," said Sir Patrick; "and it is my best credential for being reserved."
"Exactly; I thank you," replied the other, taking the letter in his gauntletted hand, and deliberately tearing it open.
"Messire!" exclaimed Gray, furiously, as he drew his sword; "are you mad, or weary of life, that you dare to open a letter——"
"For Arnold d'Egmont, count of Zutphen, and duke of Gueldres, you would say?"
"Yes, surrender it, messire, or by every saint in heaven, I shall kill you where you stand!"
"Beware—beware!" exclaimed some of the attendants, lowering their lances.
"And why beware?" demanded the sturdy Scot.
"Because I am Arnold himself," replied the old duke, with a hearty laugh, in which the three knights of the Golden Fleece joined.
"You, monseigneur?" said Gray, sinking the point of his sword, and reining back his horse.
"Behold my banner and escort, with Ravenstein, Berg, and Nassau, my three most faithful friends."