"Nay, in good sooth, a trifle. Which however I will pray mesdames to accept as an excuse for my vivacity. 'Tis these little foolish trifling wounds that fret a man, worthy sir. Why, look ye now, sweeter temper than our Gerard never breathed, yet, when the bear did but strike a piece no bigger than a crown out of his calf, he turned so hot and choleric y'had said he was no son of yours, but got by the good knight Sir John Pepper on his wife dame Mustard; who is this? a dwarf? your servant, master Giles." "Your servant, soldier," roared the new-comer. Denys started. He had not counted on exchanging greetings with a petard. Denys's words had surprised his hosts, but hardly more than their deportment now did him. They all three came creeping up to where he sat, and looked down into him with their lips parted, as if he had been some strange phenomenon. And growing agitation succeeded to amazement. "Now hush!" said Eli, "let none speak but I. Young man," said he solemnly, "in God's name who are you, that know us though we know you not, and that shake our hearts speaking to us of--the absent--our poor rebellious son: whom Heaven forgive and bless?" "What, master," said Denys lowering his voice, "hath he not writ to you? hath he not told you of me, Denys of Burgundy?" "He hath writ, but three lines, and named not Denys of Burgundy, nor any stranger." "Ay, I mind the long letter was to his sweetheart, this Margaret, and she has decamped, plague take her, and how I am to find her Heaven knows." "What, she is not your sweetheart, then?" "Who, dame? an't please you." "Why, Margaret Brandt." "How can my comrade's sweetheart be mine? I know her not from Noah's niece; how should I? I never saw her." "Whist with this idle chat, Kate," said Eli impatiently, "and let the young man answer me. How came you to know Gerard, our son? Prithee now think on a parent's cares, and answer me straightforward, like a soldier as thou art."