Our mistress now led the way to the great courtyard of the castle, where the three hundred men-at-arms were to be assembled. How she contrived to walk ten paces in her habiliments I know not, for, in addition to the steel with which her slight person was encumbered, her long riding skirt trailed over her heels. However, before she came to the courtyard she must needs dispatch Sir Richard Pendragon for a milk-white courser, if such a steed was to be found in the stables of his lordship’s grace; or failing a quadruped of that chaste hue, the master of the horse was to procure one as near to that condition as he could discover. “Statecraft, dear lady, statecraft!” said the Count of Nullepart with an arch smile. “I perceive you are determined to present to your warriors the appearance of the goddess of battles.” Sir Richard Pendragon being unable to discover a courser of milk-white hue was fain to lead a palfrey of a dubious dapple colour into the austere presence of his mistress. She directed a glance upon it of the most instant disapproval. “Is there no worthier thing than this, Sirrah Red Dragon?” she demanded haughtily. “None, good countess, ladyship, and madam.” “Wherefore, sirrah, wherefore?” she demanded, beating her sword on her boot in a threatful manner. “You are the master of our horse, are you not, and you keep no milk-white courser for our use? How so, Sirrah Horse Master, wherefore and why?” “Under your ladyship’s good favour,” said the giant humbly, “your good Dick, an old honest fellow, hath not been in his office more than twenty minutes.” “Answer my question, sirrah,” stormed his mistress. “Why is there no milk-white courser for my use?” Sir Richard Pendragon plucked at his beard furiously, and directed a sidelong look at the Count of Nullepart, who stood very upright and gazing before him as solemnly as an owl in a cold evening. “I have the greatest mind, Sirrah Red Dragon, do you mark me,” said the Countess Sylvia, “to proceed on foot to swear my three hundred men-at-arms. I have the greatest mind, I say, to proceed on foot. This is no milk-white courser you have brought me; it is the colour of mud. Am I one of a low condition, Sirrah Red Dragon, that I should repair to meet my honest lieges on a horse that is the colour of mud?” “Under your ladyship’s good favour,” said the giant modestly, “this matter shall be rectified. I will procure a courser for you that shall be as white as the driven snow. But you cannot have for asking, good ladyship and madam, as we English say; therefore your good Dick, an old honest fellow and a lover of sherris, must first hold a draft on the treasury of your ladyship. The which, as this old honest fellow submits duteously, the which would not be necessary were he entitled to hold the keys of your ladyship’s treasury, as becomes his true merit and his gentle nurture.” “Peace, Sirrah Red Dragon,” said his mistress. “We will attend you in council after a while.”