Beatrix of Clare — John Reed Scott

Two archers stepped out into the path, -shafts notched and bows up. "A word with your worship," said one. The Knight whirled around. "A word with your worship," greeted him from the rear. He glanced quickly to each side. "A word with your worship," met him there. He shrugged his shoulders and sat down on the limb of a fallen tree. Resistance was quite useless, with no weapon save a dagger, and no armor but silk and velvet. "The unanimity of your desires does me much honor," he said; "pray proceed." The leader lowered his bow. "It is a great pleasure to meet you, Sir Aymer de Lacy," said he, "and particularly to be received so graciously." "You know me?" "We saw you arrive yesterday-but there were so many with you we hesitated to ask a quiet word aside." The Knight smiled. "It is unfortunate-I assure you my talk would have been much more interesting then."