Madam’s three councillors exchanged glances with one another. They spoke aside. “The most puissant prince in Spain, and we have but three hundred men-at-arms with which to deny him,” said the Count of Nullepart. Sir Richard Pendragon teased his short chin beard. “I’ facks,” said he, “they may be good men all and we three as a legion, but an elderly soldado who has drawn his point on an hundred fields in Europe and Asia Minor likes at least the same number of chins under the same number of noses as his adversary.” “Are ye fearful, Sirrah Red Dragon?” said the Countess Sylvia, regarding her favourite officer with disdain. “Not fearful at all, good your ladyship,” said the English giant, “not fearful at all, but yet addicted to the process of thought, like all deep minds of my nation.” Again the mighty warrior teased his short chin beard. “We need an army,” said I, “and yet three hundred soldiers is the whole of our garrison.” “And this is a fair manor,” said the Englishman, “and Richard Pendragon, knight, has a crow to pluck with the Castilian.” This speech caused the Lady Sylvia to train the glance of a hawk upon the Englishman. “My good Sirrah Red Dragon,” said she, “by the same token I am inclined to remember that our nephew France hath also a crow to pluck with the Castilian.” At these words the Count of Nullepart rose from the council board with some little perturbation. “Your nephew France, madam,” he said. “Your nephew France.” Madam perused the Count of Nullepart’s countenance with a surprised inquiry. “Sir Count,” said she, “I mentioned my nephew France. Have you the acquaintance of France, our worthy nephew?” “Yes, madam,” said the Count of Nullepart with something of embarrassment, “that is, I mean no--that is, I mean--” “What is the substance of your meaning, Sir Count?” said madam with petulance. “It has no substance, madam,” said the Count of Nullepart. The Count of Nullepart resumed his place at the council board with an assumption of composure. Sir Richard Pendragon took up the thread of the discourse. “By my hand,” said he, “this is very like a providence, to use a favourite idiom of Ferdinando the Ninth, a friend of my youth and hereditary sovereign of the Russ. If, madam, your nephew France--and craving your forgiveness, my dear soul, Richard Pendragon, honest fellow, had not guessed that, like himself, your ladyship’s grace had all these well placed relations--if, madam, as you say, your nephew France--how pleasantly, to be sure, the name trips off the tongue of one who hath the blood of kings under his doublet!--in fact, madam, in the circumstances might I not say _our_ nephew France?--if, madam, as I say, _our_ nephew France has a crow to pluck with the Castilian, is not this the very season in which to begin the pulling of feathers?”