“John of Dunster?” said the King. “Henry, didst thou not know for whose sake I had loved and proved him? He was Richard’s pupil. I was forced to take the child with me, for old Sir Reginald had been unruly enough, and I thought would be the less troublesome to my father were his son in my keeping. But I half repented when I saw what a small urchin it was, to be cast about among grooms and pages! But Richard aided the little uncouth varlet, nursed him when sick, guarded him when well, trained him to be loyal and steadfast. The little fellow came bravely to my aid in my grapple with the traitor before Acre; and when the blow had fallen on Richard, the boy’s grief was such that I loved him ever after. And of late I have had no truer trustier warrior. I warrant me he was too shy to tell thee that I knighted him last year in the midst of some of the best feats of arms I ever beheld against the Welsh! Whatever John de Mohun saith is sooth, and I would rather mate my daughter with him than with many a man of fairer speech.” “Then shall he have my pretty Bessee!” said the beggar, lingering over the words. “But one boon I would further ask, cousin; that thou breathe no word to him of my having sought thee.” The young Lord of Dunster had not been noted for choiceness of apparel; but when he repaired to the trysting-tree, none could have found fault with the folds of his long crimson tunic, worked with the black and gold colours of his family, nor with the sit of the broad belt that sustained his sword, assuredly none with his beautiful sleek black charger. But under the tree stood not the blind beggar, but the beggar’s boy. “Blind Hal bids you meet him at the Spital, at your good pleasure,” said the boy; and like the mountebank he was, tumbled three times head over heels. John de Mohun looked round and about, and saw no alternative but to obey. All his love was required to endure so strange a father-in-law, who did not seem in the least grateful for the honour intended to his daughter; but the knight’s word was pledged, and he rode towards the Hospital. The court of the Hospital was full of steeds and serving-men. A strange conviction came over John that he saw the King’s strong white charger—ay, and the palfreys of the elder princesses; and he asked the lay-brother who offered to take his horse, if the King were there. The brother only replied by motioning him towards the inner quadrangle. He passed on accordingly, and as he went, the bells broke forth into a merry peal. On the top of the steps leading to the arched doorway, he saw a scarlet cluster of knights, and among them the Grand Prior, robed as for Mass. A space was clear within the deep porch, and there stood the beggar in his russet suit. “Sir John de Mohun of Dunster,” he said, “thou art come hither to espouse my daughter?” “I hope, so, Sir,” said John, somewhat taken by surprise. “Come hither, maiden,” said her father.