chubby maiden enthroned upon his great shoulder, her soft white arm curled round his shining headpiece. So the throng moved on, until at the very gate it was brought to a stand by a wondrously fat man, who came darting forth from the town with rage in every feature of his rubicund face.
'How now, Sir Mayor?' he roared, in a voice like a bull. 'How now, Sir Mayor? How of the clams and the scallops?'
'By Our Lady, my sweet Sir Oliver,' cried the mayor, 'I have had so much to think of, with these wicked villains so close upon us, that it had quite gone out of my head.'
'Words, words!' shouted the other furiously. 'Am I to be put off with words? I say to you again, how of the clams and scallops?'
'My fair sir, you flutter me,' cried the mayor. 'I am a peaceful trader, and I am not wont to be so shouted at upon so small a matter.'
'Small!' shrieked the other. 'Small! Clams and scallops! Ask me to your table to partake of the dainty of the town, and when I come a barren welcome and a bare board! Where is my spear-bearer?'
'Nay, Sir Oliver, Sir Oliver!' cried Sir Nigel, laughing. 'Let your anger be appeased, since instead of this dish you come upon an old friend and comrade.'
'By St. Martin of Tours!' shouted the fat knight, his wrath all changed in an instant to joy, 'if it is not my dear little game rooster of the Garonne. Ah, my sweet coz, I am right glad to see you. What days we have seen together!'
'Aye, by my faith,' cried Sir Nigel, with sparkling eyes, 'we have seen some valiant men, and we have shown our pennons in some noble skirmishes. By St. Paul! we have had great joys in France.'
'And sorrows also,' quoth the other. 'I have some sad memories of the land. Can you recall that which befell us at Libourne?'
