finely clad or fitted, and not one had Roxholm ever set eyes upon whose
youthful body and limbs were as splendid in line and symmetry; in
truth, the beauty and fire of him were things to make a man lose his
breath. He rode as if he had been born upon his horse's back and had
never sat elsewhere from his first hour, his flowing-black hair was
almost too rich and long for a boy, he had a haughty mouth for a child,
though it was a crimson bow and pouting, his complexion matched it, and
his black eyes, which were extraordinary big and flashing, had the
devil in them.

"_Pardi!_" the young Marquess cried between his teeth. "What does such
a young one in such company?" Never had he beheld a thing which moved
him with such strange suddenness of emotion. He could not have
explained the reason of his feeling, which was an actual excitement,
and caused him to turn in his saddle to watch the boy's every movement
as he galloped forward to join the reprobate group.

As they had greeted Sir Jeoffry with a shout of welcome, so they
greeted the young newcomer, but in his reception there was more
enthusiasm and laughter, as if there were some special cause for gayety
in the mere sight of him.

When he drew up in their midst their voices broke forth into a tumult
of noisy, frolicsome greeting, to which the lad gave back impudent,
laughing answer. In a moment's time he was the centre figure of
interest among them, and seemed to dominate them all as if he had been
some young potentate instead of a mere handsome lad of twelve.

"If they were a band of barbarians and he their boy chief they could
pay him no more court nor joy in him more," Roxholm reflected. "Is it