“It is granted ere named, noble Knight,” said Cedric; “yet, at this sad moment⁠—”

“Of that also,” said the King, “I have bethought me⁠—but my time is brief⁠—neither does it seem to me unfit, that, when closing the grave on the noble Athelstane, we should deposit therein certain prejudices and hasty opinions.”

“Sir Knight of the Fetterlock,” said Cedric, colouring, and interrupting the King in his turn, “I trust your boon regards yourself and no other; for in that which concerns the honour of my house, it is scarce fitting that a stranger should mingle.”

“Nor do I wish to mingle,” said the King, mildly, “unless in so far as you will admit me to have an interest. As yet you have known me but as the Black Knight of the Fetterlock⁠—Know me now as Richard Plantagenet.”

“Richard of Anjou !” exclaimed Cedric, stepping backward with the utmost astonishment.