“I am glad you have come, noble knights. We will meet at table and further consider this matter. But, alas! two fowls and a leg of mutton!” On the evening of the same day, when La Hire reached his lodgings and was laying off his armor, a young man of about eighteen years entered. His strong, supple frame, handsome, noble face, piercing black eyes, lofty forehead beneath raven-black hair, as well as his resolute, self-confident bearing, impressed themselves upon the knight. “Who are you, and what do you wish?” he said, at the same time regarding the young man with evident satisfaction. “My name, noble knight, is probably unknown to you,” was his reply. “My father of blessed memory, however, left it to me unstained. I have come to honor that name under your banner in the service of the distressed King and the unhappy fatherland.” “Well said, young man, and, by Our Lady, you look to me like one who can use his sword as well as his tongue. We will consider the matter.” “Will you not accept my service, noble sir?” “Gently, young man. Do you suppose that I confide the honor of my banner to every nameless fellow? Out with your name.” “I am called Jean Renault.” “Renault? Was your father that Thomas Renault who fell in the service of the Duke of Orleans, fighting against the English?” “The same, noble sir.” “Then a thousand times welcome. Your father was a brave knight and a noble gentleman. From to-day you shall serve under my banner, and you will have ample opportunities to earn your knightly spurs.” Thereupon he shook the young man’s hand heartily. “I thank you for your confidence, noble sir,” replied the new adherent, with beaming eyes. “I will do my utmost to justify this confidence, but what I can do to earn my knightly spurs I do not yet know, partly because of my youth, and also, though it is no disgrace, partly because of my poverty.” “Poverty! Your father had property.” “Yes; but it was at Rouen, and it has fallen into the hands of the English.” “Well, we will see that it is returned to you. But now tell me where you acquired your training.” “Under my father, to whose retinue I was last attached.” “Then you have also fought against the English?” “Yes, I was in the battle in which my father fell and the Duke of Orleans was captured.” “Then you are doubly welcome, my young friend,” warmly exclaimed the knight. “I well know I cannot take your father’s place, but I will do for you all that a man can.” Overcome by such generosity, Jean pressed the knight’s proffered hand to his lips. His heart was too full for words. La Hire understood his silence, and admired him all the more. “You are from the neighborhood of Rouen, and are acquainted there?” he resumed. “I know every village thereabouts, noble sir. Alas! they are nearly all ruined.” “Yes! God and the saints pity them. But, further, do you know the Bishop of Beauvais?” “Certainly I know him. It is his diocese.”