Thus Porges. Isoult sat wondering, very much confused. She was coming in as a queen indeed. Master Porges went on to handle the esquire.
"Master Galors, good-day to you," he said. "My lady the Countess of Hauterive hath heard of you. She may possibly send for you anon. In the meantime, in the pendency of her motions to that grace, I am to receive from you the Lady Pietosa, who has suffered your attentions so far, and who thanks you, through me, her inherited minister. At your ladyship's pleasure now. Follow us, good Master Galors."
Unfortunately Prosper saw no need for playing Galors just then. But the seneschal always pleased him.
"Master Porges," he said in his suavest tones, "the gentleman you name is indisposed to wait very long—he must not indeed be delayed—and is wholly incapable of travel unattended. He must therefore ride where I ride. As for the lady upon whom you bestow so decorous a name, I cannot answer. The lady whom I escort will please herself. Step behind us, Master Porges, I entreat of you. You would not ask so much of Sir Galors de Born if you knew him as well as I do."
"Now, who is this? What am I then, Messire?" the seneschal gasped.
"You are the most worshipful Master Porges, if I am right, by the grace of God Seneschal of High March, and so forth."
"Ah! Good! And you, sir?"
"I am not Galors de Born," replied Prosper modestly, "though he is not far removed from me."
"You bear his coat, Messire."
"Ah, Saint Mary! I bear more than that of his."