“Some little I have thought of that,” began my father, “and, indeed, Kate, I would not have thee think I would leave thee unsecured. Marvin, the old cross-bowman who attended me through all my campaigns, and whose eye for the homing place of his arrow, is, in spite of his years, like that of Robin Hood himself, shall be thy right-hand servitor, and with him six good serving men, who, like him, are of the older day and unfit for the long marches, but who can handle the cross-bow or, at need, the spear as well as in their best days. These shall be at thy command; and will be ample for these quiet times.” “Nay, my lord,” she answered, quickly, “these days are none so quiet, with the Old Wolf of Carleton sharpening his fangs for us and ours.” “The Old Wolf hath his summons to the King’s banner as I have mine. Our smaller quarrels must be laid aside while the war is on; and if Fortune desert me not, I shall return far higher in the favor of the King than e’er before. It is this very business, well and faithfully done, that shall put an end to Carleton’s insolence. The Wolf shall snap his jaws in vain. The fat goose of Mountjoy for which he hungers shall show itself an eagle with beak and talons.” “I hope it may be as thou sayest, my lord. Still, leave with us Old Alan, the armorer. He too is past the days of hard campaigns; and thou wilt have the young smith, Dickon, for thy work in the camp. Alan shall make for us such a store of cross-bow bolts as will make Old Marvin and his men seem a score in case of need.” “As thou wilt, Kate. I had need of Old Alan’s head far more than his hands; but ’tis true enough he’s not the man who followed my father to the wars.” Then he turned to me and smiled as on that greeting day of his return from the Holy Wars. “But, Kate,” he cried, “here is the Champion of Mountjoy now. We had forgot the chief of our defenders. Mayhap Sir Dickon here, if any seek to do thee harm, will find better marks for his bolts than rooks and hares.” I knew that he made a jest of me; for he, too, hardly knows that I lack but half a foot of being as tall as himself and that when I am not put about by hurry or the like, my voice is as low a bass. But I answered in goodly earnest: “That I will, Father. An if any varlet throw but an unmannerly word at my lady mother, I’ll stop his mouth with a good steel bolt. Let but any one—Gray Wolf or other—threaten Mountjoy while thou’rt away, and come within bow-shot of our walls, and he shall rue it well.” “Ha! The young eagle tries his wings,” laughed my father. “Spoken like a true Mountjoy, Dickon. Thou’lt do. Give thee but a few more years and thou’lt serve the King like all thy line.” “And like a true Montmorency, my lord,” put in my mother. “Forget not that.”