“Farewell, boy,” said the knight, in kindly accents; “I would that you were to accompany me northward. But I know that you share not my regret, and mayhap it is better as it is, and the king’s court will be more to your liking than the northern city, where Dame Nicola lords it so bravely over fighting men; for I perceive clearly that you have not only a keen eye and a ready tongue, but that, under your gay and light demeanour, you have a scheming brain, and ambitious resolves which you would fain gratify at all hazards.” “And wherefore not, sir knight?” asked Oliver, looking in Collingham’s face with a smile which indicated considerable confidence in his destiny, if not in himself. “Oh, by the mass!” replied Collingham, quickly, “I see no cause why you should not aspire as well as another; only bear this in mind, that Fortune, like other dames, often disdains the suit of those who are too ardent in wooing her; and be not in too much haste to climb the ladder of life; I, for one, have, in that endeavour, realised the truth of the homely proverb, ‘The more hurry the less speed.’” “On my faith,” observed Oliver, thoughtfully, “I believe that most men do, in this life, learn the truth of that proverb when it is too late.” “Marry, that they do, sir squire,” said Collingham, sadly. “But forewarned is forearmed. Fall not you into the common error, nor dream that you can scale lofty walls without long ladders; nor despise that discretion without which you will never sit, as lord, in the halls of the castles of which Hugh de Moreville has taken so firm a grip; nor what I have told you of yore of a certain fair demoiselle who stands to him in the relation of daughter and heiress.” Oliver smiled and shook his head, and played with the rein of his bridle. “But farewell,” continued Collingham, now speaking in a half-jocular tone. “May you prosper in war and love, and so act as never to merit the reproaches of the valiant, and as you grow in years may you grow in wisdom; for, as Solomon, that wise king of Israel, has told us, ‘the merchandise thereof is better than the merchandise of silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold.’” “And yet,” remarked Oliver, “beshrew me if wisdom is not ever less lightly regarded than wealth in this world we inhabit.” “Not by all men,” exclaimed Collingham. “For my part, I often envy the wise, but I never covet wealth save when I feel the pressure of poverty.” Oliver laughed. “But as regards yourself, Master Icingla,” added the knight, tightening his rein, and preparing to give his horse the spur, “again I say, be not over-ardent in your pursuits, and bear in mind that, in the struggle of life, battle is not to the strong, nor the race always to the swift. Marry, he was a wise old fellow who stood on the bridge built by Queen Maude at Stratford-le-Bow, and told the youngster who asked him about the way to a certain place that he would get there in time if he did not ride too fast. So now farewell.”