"Zounds!" he cried, "your courage is worn on your sleeve, good giant! I'll uphold you to face Spaniards, strappado, rack, galleys, and all!" The bravado with which he spoke, the insolence of his bold glance and curled lip, the arrogance with which he flaunted that King's favor which should be a brand more infamous than the hangman's, his beauty, the pomp of his dress,--all were alike hateful.

I hated him then, scarce knowing why, as I hated him afterward with reason.
He now pulled from the breast of his doublet a packet, which he proffered the Governor.

"From the King, sir," he announced, in the half-fierce, half--mocking tone he had made his own.

"You may read it at your leisure.

He wishes you to further me in a quest upon which I have come." The Governor took the packet with reverence.