“Your Grace,” said Waldemar Fitzurse, “will do less than due honour to the victor, if you compel him to wait till we tell your highness that which we cannot know; at least I can form no guess⁠—unless he be one of the good lances who accompanied King Richard to Palestine , and who are now straggling homeward from the Holy Land.”

“It may be the Earl of Salisbury ,” said De Bracy; “he is about the same pitch.”

“Sir Thomas de Multon, the Knight of Gilsland , rather,” said Fitzurse; “Salisbury is bigger in the bones.” A whisper arose among the train, but by whom first suggested could not be ascertained. “It might be the King⁠—it might be Richard Coeur-de-Lion himself!”