enemies to incite the people against him. Never had Norman of Torn laid violent hand upon a woman, and his cut-throat band were under oath to respect and protect the sex, on penalty of death. As he watched the semi-profile of the lovely face before him, something stirred in his heart which had been struggling for expression for years. It was not love, nor was it allied to love, but a deep longing for companionship of such as she, and such as she represented. Norman of Torn could not have translated this feeling into words for he did not know, but it was the far faint cry of blood for blood and with it, mayhap, was mixed not alone the longing of the lion among jackals for other lions, but for his lioness. They rode for many miles in silence when suddenly she turned, saying: “You take your time, Sir Knight, in answering my query. Who be ye?” “I am Nor—” and then he stopped. Always before he had answered that question with haughty pride. Why should he hesitate, he thought. Was it because he feared the loathing that name would inspire in the breast of this daughter of the aristocracy he despised? Did Norman of Torn fear to face the look of seem and repugnance that was sure to be mirrored in that lovely face? “I am from Normandy,” he went on quietly. “A gentleman of France.” “But your name?” she said peremptorily. “Are you ashamed of your name?” “You may call me Roger,” he answered. “Roger de Conde.” “Raise your visor, Roger de Conde,” she commanded. “I do not take pleasure in riding with a suit of armor; I would see that there is a man within.” Norman of Torn smiled as he did her bidding, and when he smiled thus, as he rarely did, he was good to look upon. “It is the first command I have obeyed since I turned sixteen, Bertrade de Montfort,” he said. The girl was about nineteen, full of the vigor and gaiety of youth and health; and so the two rode on their journey talking and laughing as they might have been friends of long standing. She told him of the reason for the attack upon her earlier in the day, attributing it to an attempt on the part of a certain baron, Peter of Colfax, to