"Ay," exclaimed my grandsire, shaking his head in evident perplexity. "That is the rub; what is to be done with the ring I know not."
"I will tell you," suggested I, perceiving my advantage, and resolved to follow it up. "Intrust me with the ring, and I will ride to Windsor, seek out the courtier, and place it in his hands."
My grandsire did not much approve of my plan; and my mother, on hearing of my proposal, protested loudly against it. But I had a will of my own, and an idea, which haunted me night and day, that the stranger's visit was, in some way, linked with my destiny; and believing, at all events, that he could aid me to emerge from obscurity, I held to my intention with all the tenacity and determination of my nature. Nothing daunted by the opposition of my grandsire and the alarm of my mother, I never rested till I obtained their sanction to what I, at that age, deemed a grand enterprise; and having, at length, by perseverance, removed all obstacles, I prepared for my journey.
Accordingly, one morning in October, I arrayed myself so as to appear to the best advantage, mounted my black steed, and rode through the forest, with a feeling that I was on the road to fortune. I confess, however, that, as I neared the town of Windsor, my confidence in myself gradually weakened; and, as I reflected how little qualified I was by experience and knowledge of life to carry the project of boldly pushing my fortune to a successful termination, I not only repented of having ventured on such an errand, but almost made up my mind to turn rein, ride back to my grandsire's homestead, abandon once and for ever all ambitious ideas, and live, with independence, if not content, tending the oxen, and tilling the soil.
It happened, however, that my imagination, which, in reality, had led me to undertake this journey to Windsor, did not altogether desert me in the middle. In the midst of my doubts, I conjured up, for the hundredth time, a brilliant future; and feeling, as if by instinct, that my fortunes were hanging on the decision of the moment, I summoned pride to my aid, and pursued my way. My shyness, natural to a youth reared in the solitude of a grange, was rather inconvenient at the moment; but I have hinted that I was not without courage. I will go further, and say that I was not without audacity; and it was with the fixed purpose of doing, daring, and risking all, that I spurred into the little town of Windsor, rode up the ascent that leads to the castle, and, reining in at the massive gate, cast a look of awe at the towers, and turrets, and fortifications of the Norman stronghold, from which the standard of England floated in the autumn breeze.
The warder appeared, as in duty bound, and demanded on what errand I came, and looked calmly on as I answered that I wished to be admitted to the presence of a cavalier who called himself "Jack Fletcher."
"Jack Fletcher?" he repeated, opening his eyes, and regarding me with a glance which seemed to intimate that he recognised the name, but was not quite certain whether or not to acknowledge that he did.
"I come at the invitation of the cavalier I have named," said I, endeavouring to appear as courageous as possible; "and, to remove any doubts, I bring a token, which I was given to understand would secure me the privilege of being admitted to his presence."
I produced the ring; the warder looked at it, and bent his head.