"But you can tell us, Mary?"
"Surely, sweet sir, one talks of a sounder of swine."
The old Knight laughed exultantly. "Here is a pupil who never
brings me shame!" he cried. "Be it lore--of chivalry or heraldry
or woodcraft or what you will, I can always turn to Mary. Many a
man can she put to the blush."
"Myself among them," said Nigel.
"Ah, lad, you are a Solomon to some of them. Hark ye! only last
week that jack-fool, the young Lord of Brocas, was here talking of
having seen a covey of pheasants in the wood. One such speech
would have been the ruin of a young Squire at the court. How
would you have said it, Nigel?"
"Surely, fair sir, it should be a nye of pheasants."
"Good, Nigel--a nye of pheasants, even as it is a gaggle of geese
or a badling of ducks, a fall of woodcock or a wisp of snipe. But
a covey of pheasants! What sort of talk is that? I made him sit
even where you are sitting, Nigel, and I saw the bottom of two
pots of Rhenish ere I let him up. Even then I fear that he had no
great profit from his lesson, for he was casting his foolish eyes
at Edith when he should have been turning his ears to her father.
But where is the wench?"
"She hath gone forth, father."
"She ever doth go forth when there is a chance of learning aught
that is useful indoors. But supper will soon be ready, and there
is a boar's ham fresh from the forest with which I would ask your
help, Nigel, and a side of venison from the King's own chase.
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