"You have heard me speak of these, Nigel, but never before have
you seen them, for indeed I have not opened the hutch for fear
that we might be tempted in our great need to turn them into
money. I have kept them out of my sight and even out of my
thoughts. But now it is the honor of the house which calls, and
even these must go. This goblet was that which my husband, Sir
Nele Loring, won after the intaking of Belgrade when he and his
comrades held the lists from matins to vespers against the flower
of the French chivalry. The salver was given him by the Earl of
Pembroke in memory of his valor upon the field of Falkirk."
"And the bracelet, dear lady?"
"You will not laugh, Nigel?"
"Nay, why should I laugh?"
"The bracelet was the prize for the Queen of Beauty which was
given to me before all the high-born ladies of England by Sir Nele
Loring a month before our marriage--the Queen of Beauty, Nigel--
I, old and twisted, as you see me. Five strong men went down
before his lance ere he won that trinket for me. And now in my
last years--"
"Nay, dear and honored lady, we will not part with it."
"Yes, Nigel, he would have it so. I can hear his whisper in my
ear. Honor to him was everything--the rest nothing. Take it
from me, Nigel, ere my heart weakens. To-morrow you will ride with
it to Guildford; you will see Thorold the goldsmith; and you will
raise enough money to pay for all that we shall need for the
King's coming.
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