“Faith, I have met my master,” I said.  “But the lesson you gave me was worth bay Salkeld,” for so I had named my horse, after a great English house on the Border who dwell at the Castle of Corby.

“I will do thee a good turn,” he said.  “You crave to see this Puzel, ere they put on her the high witch’s cap for her hellward journey.”

“I should like it not ill,” I said; “it were something to tell my grandchildren, when all France is English land.”

“Then you shall see her, for this is your last chance to see her whole.”

“What mean you, fair sir?” I asked, while my heart gave a turn in my body, and I put out my hand to a great tankard of wine.

“To-morrow the charity of the Church hath resolved that she shall be had into the torture-chamber.”

I set my lips to the tankard, and drank long, to hide my face, and for that I was nigh swooning with a passion of fear and wrath.

“Thanks to St. George,” I said, “the end is nigh!”

“The end of the tankard,” quoth he, looking into it, “hath already come.  You drink like a man of the Land Debatable.”

Yet I was in such case that, though by custom I drink little, the great draught touched not my brain, and did but give me heart.

“You might challenge at skinking that great Danish knight who was with us under Orleans, Sir Andrew Haggard was his name, and his bearings were . . . " {39}

So he was running on, for he himself had drunk more than his share, when I brought him back to my matter.

“But as touching this Puzel, how may I have my view of her, that you graciously offered me?”

“My men change guard at curfew,” he said; “five come out and five go in, and I shall bid them seek you here at your lodgings.  So now, farewell, and your revenge with the dice you shall have when so you will.”

“Nay, pardon me one moment:  when relieve you the guard that enters at curfew?”

“An hour after point of day.  But, now I bethink me, you scarce will care to pass all the night in the Puzel’s company.  Hast thou paper or parchment?”

I set paper and ink before him, who said—­

“Nay, write yourself; I am no great clerk, yet I can sign and seal.”

Therewith, at his wording, I set down an order to the Castle porter to let me forth as early in the night as I would.  This pass he signed with his name, and sealed with his ring, bearing his arms.

“So I wish you joy of this tryst and bonne fortune,” he said, and departed.

I had two hours before me ere curfew rang, and the time was more than I needed.  Therefore I went first to the Church of St. Ouen, which is very great and fair, and there clean confessed me, and made my orisons that, if it were God’s will, this enterprise might turn to His honour, and to the salvation of the Maid.  And pitifully I besought Madame St. Catherine of Fierbois, that as she had delivered me, a sinner, she would deliver the Sister of the Saints.