ogether; but now Walter Manny turned
to the King with the result of their counsel.

"If it please your majesty," said he, "we are of opinion that this
Squire hath exceeded all bounds in desiring to break a spear with a
belted knight ere he has given his proofs. We do him sufficient honor
if a Squire ride against him, and with your consent I have chosen my
own body-squire, John Widdicombe, to clear the path for us across the
bridge."

"What you say, Walter, is right and fair," said the King. "Master
Chandos, you will tell our champion yonder what hath been arranged. You
will advise him also that it is our royal will that this contest be not
fought upon the bridge, since it is very clear that it must end in one
or both going over into the river, but that he advance to the end of the
bridge and fight upon the plain. You will tell him also that a blunted
lance is sufficient for such an encounter, but that a hand-stroke or
two with sword or mace may well be exchanged, if both riders should keep
their saddles. A blast upon Raoul's horn shall be the signal to close."

Such ventures as these where an aspirant for fame would wait for days at
a cross-road, a ford, or a bridge, until some worthy antagonist should
ride that way, were very common in the old days of adventurous knight
erranty, and were still familiar to the minds of all men because the
stories of the romancers and the songs of the trouveres were full of
such incidents. Their actual occurrence however had become rare. There
was the more curiosity, not unmixed with amusement, in the thoughts
of the courtiers as they watched Chandos ride down to the bridge and
commented upon the somewhat singular figure of the challenger. His build
was strange, and so also was his figure, for the limbs were short for so
tall a man. His head also was sunk forward as if he were lost in thought
or overcome with deep dejection.

"This is surely the Cavalier of the Heavy Heart," said Manny. "What
trouble has he, that he should hang his head?"

"Perchance he hath a weak neck," said the King.

"At least he hath no weak voice," the Prince remarked, as Nigel's answer
to Chandos came to their ears. "By our lady, he booms like a bittern."

As Chandos rode back again to the King, Nigel exchanged the old ash
spear which had been his father's for one of the blunted tournament
lances which he took from the hands of a stout archer in attendance. He
then rode down to the end of the bridge where a