"Me and my company! As goodly a band, I trow, as ever put foot to
stirrup or fist to crupper! yet will I resolve thy question plain as
Beeston Castle. My lady is old, and her only son died long ago on a
crusade. Her third grandson, now in the office of constable, is out
amongst the Welsh--plague on their fiery blood!--by reason of the
absence of his elder brother, Roger, yet abroad in these Holy Wars. Of
the eldest born, Richard, we know not but that he is deceased. He left
the castle many years ago, sorely afflicted, for he was a leper. So
that, peradventure, my lady hath sent the best man she had, inasmuch as
I am steward and seneschal, being appointed thereto through her
ladyship's great wisdom and discretion."
Here he surveyed himself with an air of indescribable assurance and
satisfaction.
"And, saving your presence," continued the deputy, "I come here as
castellan, or governor, until he whose right it is shall possess it."
"And how know we that we be not opening our gates and surrendering our
castle to some losel knave, whose only title may lie on the tip of his
tongue, and his right on the end of his rapier?"
"By this token," said the seneschal haughtily, at the same time drawing
out a formal instrument, to which was appended the broad seal of the
ancient house of Fitz-Eustace.
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