"I will go in black," said he, "and for the rest, since I am no man of
race, the coat is indifferent to me." So he began to read and comment
upon his texts. "_Je tiendray_--why, so I shall, but it savours
of forecast, brags a little."

"None the worse for my knight," said Maulfry.

"No, no," he laughed, "but let me get something of which to brag
first. Hum. _Dieu m'en garde_--we will leave God out of the
reckoning, I think. _Designando_--I will do more than point out,
by the Rood! _Jesus, Amor, Ma Dame_--I know none of these.
_Entra per me_--Oh brave, brave! 'Tis your latest, dame?"

Maulfry's eyes grew hard and bright. "Choose it, choose, my Galors!"
she cried. "And if with that you beat down the red feather, and blind
the hooded hawk, you will serve me more than you dream. Oh, choose,
choose!"

"_Entra per me_ pleases me, I confess. But what are the arms?
Wickets?"

"Three white wicket-gates on a sable field. It was the coat of Salomon
de Montguichet."

"Salomon?" said Galors all in a whisper. "Never Salomon? Do you not
remember?"

Maulfry laughed. "I should remember, I think. But there is no
monopoly. What we choose others can choose. The name is free to the
world, and a great name."