“Na. Na. Lad. Not that,” he said. “That was no fight. It was only a little rolling in the dirt. What I mean is this: Are you good with a sword, an ax or a dagger?” “Well,” I answered slyly, “a bit ago you made an accusation. You upbraided me for being a Norman.” His head came up with a jerk and the fire flashed from his black eyes. “That was only a bit of my prodding,” he replied quickly. “I wanted to stir you up. Oh,” he cried when I looked questioningly at him, “you’ll all need stirring up. What skill you have in the handling of weapons will soon be sorely useful. Can’t you realize that the King of France is watching you like a cat watches a mouse?” “I know,” I answered rather downcast, “he would like to add our territories to his own.” By this time the armorer had returned to his forge. His great hairy arm lay along the shaft of the bellows. The sparks from the coals of peat flew like tiny shooting-stars towards the rafters. He was like a great ox, patient and plodding, that did not realize its strength. “You are too much like him,” came the answer as the Fool pointed to Le Brun, “—powerful, but not far-sighted. What you ought to have is a bit of cunning to match your wits against your foes.” I said not a word for I did not know exactly what he was driving at. With a toss of my head I ambled slowly towards the door. The Fool went with me talking and jabbering at my elbow. When we came to the threshold, he slid his body carefully along the wall and like a thief peered up and down the road with more than usual circumspection. Then as though he was thoroughly alarmed he spun about and took me anxiously by the arm. “You won’t say that I have been here, will you?” he begged. “Why,” I laughed, “as far as that goes I shall forget all about you within an hour.” The expression on his face fell. He looked at me as though I had dealt him a terrible blow. “No you won’t,” he exclaimed. “The fact is that you’ll remember me till your dying day. You’ll tell your children about me long after I’m dead.” Here he seized my arm again even more firmly than before. “I must be off,” he cried. “And you won’t forget, will you? Never breathe to a soul that I’ve been here!” I was puzzled but yet more amused. I was sure that it was some whim or other that had taken hold of his fancy. So to flatter him I promised that his presence here would never be mentioned. With that he seemed pleased and with a skip and a hop he made his way around to the back of the forge where he was quickly lost among the trees.