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"I ride in his service," cried the other, "and I carry that which
belongs to him. You bar my path at your peril."
"Yet I have known the king's enemies claim to ride in his same,"
said Sir Nigel. "The foul fiend may lurk beneath a garment of
light. We must have some sign or warrant of your mission."
"Then must I hew a passage," cried the stranger, with his
shoulder braced round and his hand upon his hilt. "I am not to
be stopped on the king's service by every gadabout."
"Should you be a gentleman of quarterings and coat-armor," lisped
Sir Nigel, "I shall be very blithe to go further into the matter
with you. If not, I have three very worthy squires, any one of
whom would take the thing upon himself, and debate it with you in
a very honorable way."
The man scowled from one to the other, and his hand stole away
from his sword.
"You ask me for a sign," he said. "Here is a sign for you, since
you must have one." As he spoke he whirled the covering from the
object in front of him and showed to their horror that it was a
newly-severed human leg.


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