"I turned, and there in his stirrups stood that madman
Galliard, waving his sword and holding his company together
with the power of his will, his courage, and his voice. The
sight of him was like wine to our blood. "Into them,
gentlemen; follow me!" he roared. And then, with a hurricane
of oaths, he hurled his company against the pike-men. The blow
was irresistible, and above the din of it came that voice of
his again: "Up, Cavaliers! Slash the cuckolds to ribbons,
gentlemen!" The cropears gave way, and like a river that has
burst its dam, we poured through the opening in their ranks and
headed back for Worcester."

There was a roar of voices as Faversham ended, and around that
table "The Tavern Knight" was for some minutes the only toast.

Meanwhile half a dozen merry-makers at a table hard by, having
drunk themselves out of all sense of fitness, were occupied in
baiting a pale-faced lad, sombrely attired, who seemed sadly
out of place in that wild company - indeed, he had been better
advised to have avoided it.

The matter had been set afoot by a pleasantry of Ensign
Tyler's, of Massey's dragoons, with a playful allusion to a
letter in a feminine hand which Kenneth had let fall, and which
Tyler had restored to him. Quip had followed quip until in
their jests they transcended all bounds. Livid with passion
and unable to endure more, Kenneth had sprung up.

"Damnation!" he blazed, bringing his clenched hand down upon
the table. "One more of your foul jests and he that utters it