Meanwhile Drusilla had withdrawn to one of the window embrasures, where she sat munching her Brazilian nuts. Sir Richard Grenville stood near her, examining a suit of armour that was propped up in the corner.
"'Tis the armour that was worn by Sir Stephen Oglander in the wars of the Roses," the girl informed him. "And the curved sword that is hanging near it on the next panel was taken by my grandfather in a certain battle against the Turks—not this grandfather, you know, but the other one, my mother's father, the Earl of Dersingham."
"Ah! so thine ancestor fought against the Infidels, eh?" said Grenville, and pushing aside Philip Oglander's cloak, which lay on the bench, he sat down beside her. "Didst know that I too have been in battle against them?"
"No," she answered, open-eyed. "Prithee, tell me of it. Was it by sea or by land?"
"By land for the most part," he returned; "but the greatest battle was by sea, and it took place in the Gulf of Lepanto. 'Twas the most glorious engagement and the most honourable victory I have ever taken part in, saving only the late fight which you wot of against the dons of Spain. I will tell thee of it if thou'rt not too weary. 'Twill pass the time until your brother comes in."
As he spoke he took up Philip Oglander's rapier, and in mere idleness he drew the long narrow blade from its leathern scabbard, held the weapon out in front of him and glanced along it with critical eye, examined its curious basket hilt of twisted metal, then pressed his thumb against the sharp point, took the point end in one hand and the hilt in the other, and bent the blade to test its flexible spring, and finally held the weapon out once more at arm's-length.
"The battle was betwixt the Turks and the Christians," he went on. But here he was abruptly interrupted. Philip Oglander had risen from the table and crossed the floor towards him.
"Your pardon, my master, but that rapier is mine!" cried the lad in strange excitement, speaking with his mouth full of food.
Sir Richard Grenville glanced up at him in surprise, still retaining the weapon.
"A goodly blade too, o' my conscience," he muttered with a grim smile. "Fashioned in Toledo, I warrant me. 'Tis not often we see its like in England, save in the hands of our country's foes. But I would warn you, young sir, that 'tis a good three inches too long to suit Queen Elizabeth's regulations. I should counsel you to have it clipped ere you venture to carry it again through English streets."