"Dearest, do not think me foolish; but since you intimated your intention of appearing in the lists, I have been engaged in a little enterprise of my own. I have still my forebodings that you will be discovered if you venture to enter the lists of the tournament, without some more effectual disguise than you seem to possess. So, excuse me, I have been taxing my poor woman's wit in the matter. Would it be wrong to practise a little ruse upon my father, think you? I have a cousin, who, some years ago, joined the ranks of the king of Spain, and has gone to war with him against the Moors in the south. He is much commended by the king of Spain for his valour. If we could dare to convey to my father a message that this knight would be present at the festival, and take part in the joust and feat of arms, you yourself might then assume this disguise. You would, I think, pass easily for this valiant southern knight, providing you could arrive opportunely, so as to preclude as much as possible previous intercourse. Your followers also might be prepared to enact their part. It would disarm suspicion effectively, I think."
"Ah! to be sure, set love a-plotting and the thing is done at once."
"Nonsense! you jest with me. Now listen! I have already set about embroidering you handsome trappings for your horse, with quaint, southern devices, which I learnt under the tuition of the good sisters of the convent. Now, don't laugh, you think it a mad whim, I can see."
"Nay, nay! my Lady Suspicion," said Oswald, stooping and kissing her, and giving her a tighter squeeze. "I almost begin to fear you as I think of the dark plots you are capable of weaving. I never for a moment dreamed I had found such a subtle schemer. Now, go on; you have got your finger on the weak point in the plot. I certainly feared the ordeal of exposure on the field myself; and you have been taxing your 'poor woman's wit,' and have anticipated my one difficulty. Now for the rest, dearest."
"Come down with me to my room. All is perfectly quiet."
So together they descended the winding stair, and sought Alice's room. Here she and Jeannette had been deftly plying their fingers in embroidering most quaint devices upon the trappings of the horses of the knight and his esquire, and a couple of men-at-arms. Oswald's were most gorgeously embroidered with silk and gold, upon the finest Bayeaux cloth, by the fingers of Alice alone. Most beautiful and chaste was the workmanship, for she had lavished not only her skill, but her love in the equipment of her champion. The figures were so quaint, the design so original, and the whole so rich in quality, that no prince could hope to ride with more tasteful and imposing housings for his steed. Jeannette also had done her best, it can easily be imagined, to equip her valiant squire like his master.
Oswald took the garments in his hands.
"Well, dearest," said he, "no one will expect a boorish Saxon outlaw to appear like a Norman prince, that is certain; and I dare warrant no curious eyes will penetrate a disguise so complete as you are preparing. Love is not blind in this case, Alice dear, I avouch it; but it has the gift of prevision also. There remains but one condition to give point and consummation to this, and it is that your valiant cousin shall prove himself worthy of such a lady love. But, darling, can you answer this question,—if Vigneau should be overthrown ignominiously, will the spoils of war, the fair queen of this high festival, be the lawful prize of the victor? Now, beware! if you escape the toils of Vigneau, there is another ominous figure hovering near, who is ready to pounce down upon you and carry you off."
"So, I suppose, like an unhappy maiden, I may sing—
"'Then woe is me! a bride I'll be,
Whether I will or no;
For 'tis a law of chivalry—
Victors will have it so.'