"When I was yet a page, thou wert a belted knight; and thou wert away to the Crusades ere ever my beard grew." "I stood by Richard of England at the gates of Ascalon, and drew the spear from sainted King Louis in the tents of Damietta," the individual addressed as Romane replied.

"Well-a-day! since thy beard grew, boy, (and marry 'tis yet a thin one,) I have broken a lance with Solyman at Rhodes, and smoked a chibouque with Saladin at Acre.

But enough of this.
Tell me of home--of our native valley--of my hearth, and my lady-mother, and my good chaplain--tell me of HER, Philibert," said the knight, executing a demivolt, in order to hide his emotion.
Philibert seemed uneasy, and to strive as though he would parry the question.

"The castle stands on the rock," he said, "and the swallows still build in the battlements.

The good chaplain still chants his vespers at morn, and snuffles his matins at even-song.