"The bleeding bird? Ah! the token, you would say."
"Yes, Messire, yes! The pelican in piety--the torn breast! The I and
F. Ah! blood enough shed, blood enough. Go quickly, Sir Prosper, and
testify for your name; 'tis of good omen and better report. And have
you killed that sick wolf Galors, Messire? There, there, God will
bless you for that, and prosper you as you have prospered us!"
Galors swallowed the pill and went out with no more ceremony. Falve
ran after him.
"Eh, eh, Messire!" he spluttered. Galors let him splutter till they
were within the courtyard. Then he called to a trooper.
"Take this man and flog him well," said he. Falve was seized.
"Ah, my lording," cried he, "what do you there? Must I be flogged
because I have lost my wife?"
"No, dog. But because you have married mine."
"Nay, nay, mercy, my lording! I have not yet married her."
"Ha!" said Galors, "then you shall be flogged for jilting her."
And flogged he was. And the flogging cost Galors his prize.
Galors now bestirred himself. First he sat down and wrote a letter to
the Countess, thus conceived.
"To the high lady, the Lady Isabel de Forz, Countess of Hauterive,
Countess Dowager of March and Bellesme, Lady of Morgraunt--Galors de
Born, Lord of Hauterive, Goltres, and West Wan, sendeth greeting in
the Lord everlasting.
"That which your Serenity lost early is not too late found, and by us.
The crystal locket, having the pelican in the Crown of Thorns, when we
bring it upon the bosom where it hath ever slept waiting for the day
which shall reveal it to you, will testify whether we lie or lie not.
Know, however, that she shall assuredly come, and not unattended; but
as, befits her condition, under the hand of him who, having found her,
will provide that she be not lost again. It is not unknown to you,
High Mightiness, how our power and estate have grown in these days to
the threatening of your own. So it is, indeed, that now, in blood, in
fees, in renown, in power of life and member, we are near enough to
you to seek alliance still more close. And this is the last word of
Galors; let the wearer of the crystal locket come home as the
betrothed of the Lord Galors de Born, and heiress of High March and
Morgraunt, Countess of Hauterive in time to be, and she shall come
indeed. Otherwise she comes not; but Hauterive wears the crown which
High March looks to put on. Thus we commend you to the holy keeping of
God. From our tower of Hauterive, on the feast of Saint Arnulphus,
bishop and martyr, the 15th calends of August, in the first year of
our principality West of Wan."