And then Brion told him all his secret, for what was the use to withhold the rest, when he had confessed so much. And as he spoke, the glamour of that sweet time returned upon him, so that his voice grew husky with passion and grief, and the recognition of that loss which could never now be made good. ‘Nay,’ said his comforter at the end: ‘never’s no word for love. A City knight, and I for London! I’ll get you news of her--contrive you meet again. She’s not forgot thee--take my word on’t. That face would linger in a maiden’s heart. Be of best cheer. Shalt hear from me within the month.’ His bright confidence had its effect upon the lover. Hope, like a blown-on-spark, began to glow and travel in his breast again. But still he shook his head:-- ‘What an he hath forced her to wed where she abhorred?’ ‘What an he hath not?’ was the answer. ‘I detect a touch of self-will in your lady. She would have her way on occasion. And she a spoilt and only child. Come, brave heart! We’ll pledge a silent toast to your re-meeting, at table this night.’ And they did so, their eyes encountering, while Brion thrilled all through. There was little talk at supper--from which the host was absent--save for the young soldier’s recounting some of his experiences in the Low Countries. And, of those, what most impressed itself on Brion’s mind was a description of a certain engagement with the forces of Don John of Austria, natural son to the Emperor, in which, the day being sultry, the English--among whom was Raleigh--had flung off their armour and hacketons, and fought in their shirts, with a fury that had routed the enemy, though superior in numbers, and driven him to flight and confusion. And that was to be Englishmen all over, bold and reckless to folly, yet having confidence in nothing so much as the clean sheer force of their English blood to carry them through. The little company went to bed early; and early next morning the gentlemen took their departure, Raleigh with many expressions of affection and reassurance to his young host, and even Sir Richard, gruffly unbending, with a word of what he meant to be courtly acknowledgement of the hospitality vouchsafed them. Brion, with a kindling heart, watched them ride away. CHAPTER XVIII. HOPE DEFERRED