He was twenty years old—strong, of a sound body, not without education in matters that the time thought needful. He could do what another esquire of gentle blood could do. Moreover, he felt in himself further powers. He was not crassly confident; he turned toward those bright shoots and buds an inner regard half shy and wistful. He was capable of longing and melancholy.... Danger from Savaric of Montmaure and his son Jaufre he held to be fairly passed. Accident might renew it, to-day, to-morrow, or ten years hence, but accident only took its chance with other chances. He was out of Savaric’s grasp, being out of his territory and into that of Toulouse, with intention to wander yet farther afield. Extradition and detectives had their rough-hewn equivalents in Garin’s day. But he was assured that there was no spy upon his track, and he did not brood over the possibility of a summons to Toulouse to deliver him or be warred against. He had his share of common sense. He was an offender too obscure and slight for such weightiness of persecution. Did they find him, they would wring his neck, but they would not dislocate their usual life to find him. He thought that, with common precaution, he was at present safe enough from Montmaure. He could not go back to Raimbaut or to Castel-Noir—perhaps not for many years ... though if he became a famous knight he might ride back, his esquires behind him, and challenge that false knight, Jaufre de Montmaure! To become that knight—that was his problem, or rather, one great problem. He must change his name, he must seek a lord, he must win back, first, to squirehood. On the road yesterday, one had asked him his name. He had replied with the first thing that came into his head. “Garin Rogier,” he had said. He thought now that this would still answer. For his country, he proposed to say that he was of Limousin. It might take years to become a knight. His own merit would have to do with that, but Fortune, also, would have to do with it. He knew not if Fortune would be kind to him, or the reverse. He sat bent forward, his hands clasped between his knees, his eyes upon the sunshine-gilded stones. Find knighthood—And how should he find his lady?