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beating more to heart. “Some time soon, mayhap. Me thinks thou shouldst think more of thy beating than of a broken knife. Now get thee gone to thy business.”

The youngster lingered for a moment or two watching Myles at his work. “What is that on the leather scrap, Falworth?” said he, curiously.

“Lard and ashes,” said Myles, testily. “Get thee gone, I say, or I will crack thy head for thee;” and he picked up a block of wood, with a threatening gesture.

The youngster made a hideous grimace, and then scurried away, ducking his head, lest in spite of Myles's well-known good-nature the block should come whizzing after him.

“Hear ye that now!” cried Myles, flinging down the block again and turning to his two friends. “Beaten with straps because, forsooth, he would not fetch and carry quickly enough to please the haste of these bachelors. Oh, this passeth patience, and I for one will bear it no longer.”

“Nay, Myles,” said Gascoyne, soothingly, “the little imp is as lazy as a dormouse and as mischievous as a monkey. I'll warrant the hiding was his due, and that more of the like would do him good.”

“Why, how dost thou talk, Francis!” said Myles, turning upon him indignantly. “Thou knowest that thou likest to see the boy beaten no more than I.” Then, after a meditative pause, “How many, think ye, we muster of our company of the Rose today?”

Wilkes looked doubtfully at Gascoyne. “There be only seventeen of us here now,” said he at last. “Brinton and Lambourne are away to Roby Castle in Lord George's train, and will not be back till Saturday next. And Watt Newton is in the infirmary.

“Seventeen be'st enou,” said Myles, grimly. “Let us get together this afternoon, such as may, in the Brutus Tower, for I, as I did say, will no longer suffer these vile bachelors.”

Gascoyne and Wilkes exchanged looks, and then the former blew a long whistle.

So that afternoon a gloomy set of young faces were gathered together in the Eyry—fifteen of the Knights of the Rose—and all knew why they were assembled. The talk which followed was conducted mostly by Myles. He addressed the others with a straightforward vim and earnestness, but the response was only half-hearted, and when at last, having heated himself up with his own fire, he sat down, puffing out his red cheeks and glaring round, a space of silence followed, the lads looked doubtfully at one another. Myles felt the chill of their silence strike coldly on his enthusiasm, and it vexed him.

“What wouldst thou do, Falworth?” said one of the knights, at last. “Wouldst have us open a quarrel with the bachelors?”

“Nay,” said Myles, gruffly. “I had thought that ye would all lend me a hand in a pitched battle but now I see that ye ha' no stomach for that. Ne'theless, I tell ye plainly I will not submit longer to the bachelors. So now I will ask ye not to take any venture upon yourselves, but only this: that ye will stand by me when I do my fighting, and not let five or seven of them fall upon me at once.

“There is Walter Blunt; he is parlous strong,” said one of the others, after a time of silence. “Methinks he could conquer any two of us.”

“Nay,” said Myles; “ye do fear him too greatly. I tell ye I fear not to stand up to try battle with him and will do so, too, if the need arise. Only say ye that ye will stand by my back.”

“Marry,” said Gascoyne, quaintly, “an thou wilt dare take the heavy end upon thee, I for one am willing to stand by and see that thou have thy fill of fighting.”

“I too will stand thee by, Myles,” said Edmund Wilkes.

“And I, and I, and I,” said others, chiming in.

Those who would still have held back were carried along by the stream, and so it was settled that if the need should arise for Myles to do a bit of fighting, the others should stand by to see that he had fair play.

“When thinkest thou that thou wilt take thy stand against them, Myles?” asked Wilkes.

Myles hesitated a moment. “To-morrow,” said he, grimly.

Several of the lads whistled softly.

Gascoyne was prepared for an early opening of the war, but perhaps not for such an early opening as this. “By 'r Lady, Myles, thou art hungry for brawling,” said he.





CHAPTER 13

After the first excitement of meeting, discussing, and deciding had passed, Myles began to feel the weight of the load he had so boldly taken upon himself. He began to reckon what a serious thing it was for him to stand as a single champion against the tyranny that had grown so strong through years of custom. Had he let himself do so, he might almost have repented, but it was too late now for repentance. He had laid his hand to the plough, and he must drive the furrow.

Somehow the news of impending battle had leaked out among the rest of the body of squires, and a buzz of suppressed excitement hummed through the dormitory that evening. The bachelors, to whom, no doubt, vague rumors had been blown, looked lowering, and talked together in low voices, standing apart in a group. Some of them made a rather marked show of secreting knives in the straw of their beds, and no doubt it had its effect upon more than one young heart that secretly thrilled at the sight of the shining blades. However, all was undisturbed that evening. The lights were put out, and the lads retired with more than usual quietness, only for the murmur of whispering.

All night Myles's sleep was more or less disturbed by dreams in which he was now conquering, now being conquered, and before the day had fairly broken he was awake. He lay upon his cot, keying himself up for the encounter which he had set upon himself to face, and it would not be the truth to say that the sight of those knives hidden in the straw the night before had made no impression upon him. By-and-by he knew the others were beginning to awake, for he heard them softly stirring, and as the light grew broad and strong, saw them arise, one by one, and begin dressing in the gray morning. Then he himself arose and put on his doublet and hose, strapping his belt tightly about his waist; then he sat down on the side of his cot.

Presently that happened for which he was waiting; two of the younger squires started to bring the bachelors' morning supply of water. As they crossed the room Myles called to them in a loud voice—a little uneven, perhaps: “Stop! We draw no more water for any one in this house, saving only for ourselves. Set ye down those buckets, and go back to your places!”

The two lads stopped, half turned, and then stood still, holding the three buckets undecidedly.

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