Towards the end of the third day, when there had been incessant stops and starts, and everyone was getting more and more anxious, Lucius began acting particularly odd. He became very attentive to Elizabeth, holding her horse when she dismounted, taking it away to groom it, and then, while she was riding, he would run or walk along beside, as if taking charge of the whole scene. Eventually, Elizabeth called him over. "Lucius, what are you up to?"

"Can't say, ma'am."

This went on until just about dusk, and then she called him over again, and said: "Lucius, you being very sweet and kind."

"Yes'm. Can I take your horse, we are camping fo' the night, ma'am."

"Has someone told you to help me like this?"

"No'm, he never said nothing about that."

"Who said?"

"Can't say, ma'am."

"Why not?"

"A knight never says, ma'am."

"Oh, and you have become a knight, have you, Lucius?"

He looked at her, and shook his head: "No'm. I am in trainin'."

"Lucius?" She looked at him sternly.

"Aw, ma'am." He took the battered book from under his arm. "See, I was walking along by Mistah Eaton, and he started talkin' about this here book, called Ivanhoe, it is called Ivanhoe, and he said that it was kind of like another Bible, fo' knights in shinin' armour, and that I should take care of it, that I was a prime candidate for being one of those if I put my mind to it. Sounded fine to me, ma'am."

Elizabeth laughed. "And did you get any instruction along these lines."

"Oh, yes, Miz Miller, heaps. He said that we was at this time in a dark woods, under a curse, and that knights thrived plenty in such sit'iations, and that I had a leg up on all the previous knights that there ever was because there was many knights who went to the ends of the earth hunting down their treasure, and I had found it first day I had taken up this trade, so I was pretty special."

"Well, you certainly are, Lucius, you certainly are."

"Yes'm, an' he said that many knights had pined away without even a glimpse of their treasure, and that I had been held in the arms of my plum first day out, and that was real fine."

"I don't understand."

"He talks sort of confusedly, but he said that you were my fair damson in distress, and that you had hung on to me, and that knights always made beelines for damsons in distress who they never got to hang on to, because of magic spells and fire-eating dragons."

"Fire-breathing, probably."

"Fire-breathin', ma'am. Fire-breathin'." He paused. "Do you think there is such things?"

"Don't know, Lucius, Mr. Eaton is an artist and has a large imagination."

"Yes'm. Dragons, whooh. And he said that I should e-mu-late, that is, do what knights do, and that one day I would become one. He said that Mistah Owen was a real knight, and that Mistah Goodenough was a real knight, and that I should watch them real close."

"And Mr. Eaton?"

"Oh, no, ma'am, he said he was definite and for sure not a knight. He said what he was, but I don't remember. Something lower, sure."

"Well, Lucius, if you are going to work on this some more, you should know that the first rule of knightdom is that you follow your damson's orders without question."

"Yes'm. Mr. Eaton said that too, along with not ever tellin', which I have --". He looked at her somewhat pained.

"Well, I forgive you; but Lucius, you are being so obvious you are letting everyone else into the secret."

"Oh."

"You know, Lucius, you need to be less big about being helpful. I can take care of myself."

"Like pretend that I am not a knight?"

"Just be yourself, Lucius. I'll know."

"O.K. Miz Miller. I guess I can do that, I guess I can pretend to be myself, I guess. But can I take your horse, anyway, Miz. Miller?"

"Yes, Lucius, please."

And he trotted off, pretending with some success to be himself.