"He was half drowned a few minutes ago, my lord," replied the youth, "and so was I; but he will probably tell you more of himself if you will ask him. His horse leaped with him into the river, and it was a hard matter to get him out." "I hold it but courteous in these bad times," said Lord Montagu, "to follow the old knightly rule and ask no stranger any questions,--before he has cut your throat; and therefore we will invite him to sup, and leave him to explain himself. He seems a gentleman." "Yes, my lord," was all Edward's reply; but a very peculiar expression crossed his countenance as he uttered those three words, which, had Lord Montagu seen it, might have caused more inquiry. That nobleman, however, had turned to speak for a moment with the gentlemen who had been seated with him; and he then advanced to the stranger, inviting him courteously to be seated and take some refreshment, and expressing sorrow for the accident which had befallen him. He also bade the other four sit down and eat; and, there being no place for so many at the table, filled as it was, most of those who had already supped rose and gathered together at the end of the board, Edward taking his place amongst them without touching any thing. Lord Montagu introduced him to the rest in kind terms, saying, "My page and young friend, Monsieur Edward Langdale, Monsieur le Prince de ----, Monsieur le Comte de ----, Monsieur l'Abbé Scaglia, the Duke of Savoy's prime minister. We came here on a little party of pleasure, Ned, and sat long over our cups, in truth, hardly hearing that the storm was still going on. Come, my good youth, sit down and eat. You must be well weary of all the adventures which the fair duchess writes me you have gone through. Eat, boy! eat!" "Your pardon, my lord," said Edward, gravely: "I will take a cup of wine here standing: that is all. I have much to tell your lordship." "By-and-by, by-and-by," said Lord Montagu, "we shall have plenty of time and plenty to talk of. Well, drink if you will not eat." Edward Langdale advanced to the table, filled himself a goblet of wine, and returned with it to Lord Montagu's side. Before he could raise it to his lips, however, the stranger whom he had saved from drowning turned round his head, saying, with a polite smile, "Let me have the pleasure of drinking with you, young gentleman, in memory of the service you rendered me. I do not know your name, though your face is very familiar to me." A dark cloud gathered upon Edward Langdale's brow, and he answered, not sharply, but with stern, cold bitterness, "I neither eat with you nor drink with you, sir." The stranger started up with his face all on fire, and exclaimed, with his hand upon the hilt of his sword, "Do you mean to insult me, sir?" "I mean to tell you, sir," said the youth, boldly, "that I am Edward Langdale,--your father's son; and that you have robbed me of that to which neither he nor you had any right,--my sweet mother's estates."