Then, when Bertha had departed, “Boy,” said the old man, “thou hast either dreamed and talked wildly, in which case thy delusions will not last till to-morrow; or thou art in earnest about vows in a lady’s service, and the desire of being a knight. If thou art serious, then thy cousin Bertha’s childish tears are not of such consequence as they might have been heretofore. Bring your chair then directly opposite, and relate accurately, and with reflection, what happened to you this evening, so that we may better understand one another.” Otto then began his story, and as he advanced, and described his own feelings on every incident, Sir Hugh became also more and more serious and interested; till at length, when the narrative drew towards a close, he could not turn away his eyes from a great sword, which hung at no great distance from them on the wall, and which was half drawn out of the scabbard. When Otto had concluded his adventure of the tournament, Sir Hugh kept his eyes still fixed on the sword. “Many a time,” said he, “have I endeavoured to bring that old companion, who has been tried in many a fray, into the sheath, but nothing will induce him to move into concealment. It seems as if he had special objections to rest in obscurity; and now methinks he has reason on his side. Come out then once more, old Truepenny! Otto, fetch him down hither directly.” It was not without a certain feeling of awe and perplexity, that the youth turned towards the object of which his father spoke so strangely. It seemed almost as if, on his moving thither, some visitant from another world would start up against him. Nothing, however, was visible to his eyes, but the well-known old weapon;--only that, in the glimmering light, it appeared to shine with mysterious and unusual brightness. So he laid hold of it by the golden basket-hilt, and taking no heed of the scabbard, which fell rattling on the stone floor of the hall, brought the drawn sword to his father. “What a noble blade!” cried he. “The sword worn by the Knight of Montfaucon did not glitter more delightfully in the torch-light than this gleams now!” “Much, no doubt, might be said about the Knight of Montfaucon and his sword,” said the old man, weighing the heavy weapon in his right hand, “much too about rash vows and other matters; but of these at a future time, or perhaps better not at all; for vows once sworn must be fulfilled, and thy duty to Gabrielle must not be neglected. Only, if one day, in the course of thy travels, thou shouldst meet with a jeweller who had one precious gem, which was the delight of his heart, by which his eyes would have been refreshed and strengthened till his dying day, and from whom this jewel was taken against his will by some tyrannical empress, though he had fondly hoped never to part with it; or, moreover, if thou findest a gardener, who had, in the most sheltered and beautiful parterre, some one favourite flower which he rejoiced to tend and to