My lord rang a little silver bell, and a door behind us was opened. “Wine, Giles!” cried my lord in a raised voice. “Wine for Master Pory, Captain Percy, and myself! And Giles, my two choice goblets.”

Giles, whom I had never seen before, advanced to the table, took the flagon, and went toward the door, which he had shut behind him. I negligently turned in my seat, and so came in for a glimpse, as he slipped through the door, of a figure in black in the next room.

The wine was brought, and with it two goblets. My lord broke off in the midst of an account of the morning’s bear-baiting which the tediousness of the Indians had caused us to miss. “Who knows if we three shall ever drink together again?” he said. “To honor this bout I use my most precious cups.”