And this knight, of whom you, my lord of St.Pol, speak well, shall bear the greetings of a soldier." Louis' face, which for usual was grave like a wise child's, broke into a smile which melted Aimery's heart.

He scarcely heard the Count of St.Pol as that stout friend enlarged on his merits.

"The knight of Beaumanoir," so ran the testimony, "has more learning than any clerk.

In Spain he learned the tongues of the heathen, and in Paris he read deep in their philosophy.

Withal he is a devout son of Holy Chutch." The boy blushed at the praise and the King's kindly regard.