By the way, I suppose, Lord Adrian, you, with the rest of your countrymen, are Petrarch-stricken ?" "Do you not share our enthusiasm?
slur not so your gallantry, I pray you." "Come, we must not again disagree; but, by my halidame, I think one troubadour roundel worth all that Petrarch ever wrote.

He has but borrowed from our knightly poesy, to disguise it, like a carpet coxcomb." "Well," said Adrian, gaily, "for every line of the troubadours that you quote, I will cite you another.

I will forgive you for injustice to Petrarch, if you are just to the troubadours." "Just!" cried Montreal, with real enthusiasm: "I am of the land, nay the very blood of the troubadour! But we grow too light for your noble kinsman; and it is time for me to bid you, for the present, farewell.

My Lord Colonna, peace be with you; farewell, Sir Adrian,--brother mine in knighthood,--remember your challenge." And with an easy and careless grace the Knight of St.John took his leave.

The old Baron, making a dumb sign of excuse to Adrian, followed Montreal into the adjoining room.
"Sir Knight!" said he, "Sir Knight!" as he closed the door upon Adrian, and then drew Montreal to the recess of the casement,--"a word in your ear.