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Updated: May 1, 2025
Hubert hung his head, and looked at his brother. "Tell," quoth Conrade. "Never mind her, she's only a civilian." "Where did you go, Hubert?" "Con showed me the little birds in their nest." "That is right, Hubert, good little boy. Did you or he touch the nest?" "Yes." Then, as Conrade started, and looked fiercely at him, "Yes you did, Con, you touched the inside to see what it was made of."
He desisted at once, and with a touch of his rough forelock, looked sheepish, and said, "Please ma'am, he was meddling with our lobster-pot." "I wasn't doing any harm," said Conrade. "I was just looking in, and they all came and shied stones at us." "I don't care how the quarrel began," said Rachel. "You would not have run into it if you had been behaving properly.
"These are your bane," said Conrade of Montserrat; "and you, as well as I, reverend Grand Master, know that, were the allied princes to be successful in Palestine, it would be their first point of policy to abate the independence of your Order, which, but for the protection of our holy father the Pope, and the necessity of employing your valour in the conquest of Palestine, you would long since have experienced.
But for Conrade there was no recovery. Sir Kenneth's lance had pierced through the shield, through a plated corselet of Milan steel, through a SECRET, or coat of linked mail, worn beneath the corselet, had wounded him deep in the bosom, and borne him from his saddle, leaving the truncheon of the lance fixed in his wound.
Seest thou he cannot look upon us; he cannot look upon her; and who knows by what impulse from his tormentor his hand forms these cabalistic lines upon the floor? It may be our life and safety are thus aimed at; but we spit at and defy the foul enemy. 'Semper Leo percutiatur!" This was communicated apart to his confidential follower, Conrade Mont-Fitchet.
"Philip of France," answered Coeur de Lion, "my words shall never do my thoughts so much injury. I have charged yonder Conrade as a thief, who, under cloud of night, stole from its place the emblem of England's dignity.
The trumpets of the challenger then rung a flourish, and a herald-at-arms proclaimed at the eastern end of the lists "Here stands a good knight, Sir Kenneth of Scotland, champion for the royal King Richard of England, who accuseth Conrade, Marquis of Montserrat, of foul treason and dishonour done to the said King."
Both these envoys waited on the emperor at Mals, and that evening Foscari's secretary, Conrade Vimerca, wrote the following account of the meeting between Maximilian and the duke and duchess in his despatches to Venice:
On either side rode Conrade of Mont-Fitchet, and Albert de Malvoisin, who acted as godfathers to the champion. They were in their robes of peace, the white dress of the Order. Behind them followed other Companions of the Temple, with a long train of esquires and pages clad in black, aspirants to the honour of being one day Knights of the Order.
At last they quite disappeared from the view round a projecting point of rock, and when she turned it, she found a battle royal going on over an old lobster-pot Conrade hand to hand with a stout fisher-boy, and Francis and sundry amphibious creatures of both sexes exchanging a hail of stones, water-smoothed brick-bats, cockle-shells, fishes' backbones, and other unsavoury missiles.
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