By this time the vanguard of knights had reached the milestone beside which Raymond was standing. As they passed they glanced at him contemptuously. This annoyed him, for he was used to think well of himself, and the Honeymead people treated him with consideration. But if the knights looked contemptuous, the men-at-arms and attendants jeered and made mouths at him; and as for the pages they mocked and bantered him unmercifully.
'Here's an odd fish!' cried one, pointing with his finger.
'He's lost his way trying to swim on land!' laughed another.
'A scaly fellow—let's skin him and clean him!' called out a third.
'How much are you a pound, fish?' asked a fourth.
'Bah! he's stale already!' shouted a fifth.
'What's that in his right fin?—a human cap and feather, I declare!' exclaimed a sixth.
'Take it away from him!' cried several together; and one spurred his horse towards the young man and reached forth the point of his lance, as if to catch the cap from Raymond's hand.
But Raymond, though a minute ago he was almost ready to throw the cap away, was not going to submit to being robbed of it. He caught the lance by the shaft and jerked it from the page's grasp; then, putting the cap firmly on his head, he stood on his guard boldly, with the weapon advanced.
Why was the laugh with which the other pages had begun to greet their companion's mishap checked so suddenly? Why was every eye bent upon Raymond with an expression of respect and subservience? Why did all salute him so profoundly, bowing to their saddles in silent homage? What did this sudden change mean? It could not be that they were awed by the bold front he had shown; it was more likely that this was but a new way of making fun of him. And yet it was odd that all should have joined in it unanimously and at an instant's notice. What did it all mean?