So saying, the Constable hastened away, leaving his squire still torn with conflicting emotions of hope and fear—hope that his own stainless character and deeds of bravery would wipe out the undeserved blot that threatened to mar his prospects, and fear that the formidable barrier of social custom and royal etiquette would for ever debar him from the road to success.
In less than an hour Sir John returned, a broad smile of satisfaction overspreading his grim features. "Thy uncle will bear us company, ay, and another knight, if I mistake not, will interest himself on thy behalf. Now, bear thyself cheerfully, for I perceive that things will turn out aright. Waste no more time in gloomy meditations, but make thyself fit to appear in the King's presence, for the hour of audience is at hand."
"And the style of mine attire?"
"In full harness, Raymond, for the King will doubtless think fit to reward thee for bravery on the field, and on that score I have no doubt. 'Tis meet that thou shouldst appear in the garb of a soldier rather than in the dress of a common suppliant. And, moreover, our King delights in the wearing of harness, and looks with favour on those who doff their armour but rarely when they come to the wars. So again I tell thee, hasten!"
The squire repaired to his own tent and put on his complete suit of armour—the same that his father had given him years ago on the eve of the sack of Hamble—and well the dented and tarnished steel befitted his tall and erect figure. Then girding on his scabbard, wherein was thrust the remaining part of the broken blade, and grasping the fragment of the shield that had diverted the murderous sweep of the Frenchman's two-handed sword, Raymond repaired to his master's tent.
The Constable surveyed him with appreciation. "Eh, lad, thou dost well to bear the silent testimony of thy courage on thine arm. In any case but the present, when thy future is at stake, 'twould have been a braggart's ruse. But the King doth know full well that thou art no boaster, seeing that it was in thy power to accept honour at his hands, and thou didst shrink from it. But come, the hour of noon is near. Let us make for the royal pavilion."
Between the long lines of tents, where crowds of soldiers gathered, in silent wonder, to see the man who had so strangely withstood his sovereign, the knight and the squire walked side by side, and with a fresh wave of doubt and fear sweeping over him, Raymond found himself in the anteroom of the royal tent.
[CHAPTER XXII]
SIR RAYMOND
SIR JOHN HACKET, having formally announced his rank and that of his companion, as well as the nature of their business, to the herald, removed his velvet cap, though he held his bascinet in his left hand, and at the same time removed his right-hand gauntlet. His squire did likewise, and, breathing a fervent prayer for courage, he prepared to follow his master into the royal presence.
The heavy damask curtains were drawn aside by two knights in waiting, and Raymond heard the sonorous voice of the herald repeating the title and style of the Constable and his squire. Another moment and Raymond stood before, but at a respectful distance from, the royal daïs.