parents.

"Go on thy way, with God's blessing," said his stout sire, who had
cracked skulls in his day and was proud of his doughty son.

"Yes, go on thy way, Jacques," said his mother in milder tone, and with
moist eyes. "I have put a healing ointment in thy valise, that will cure
bruises. If thou shouldst break a bone, Heaven send thee a skilful
surgeon."

Into France rode Sir Jacques, well mounted, and with squire and page in
his train, in search of adventures and opponents, eager for fame and
profit. From his left arm, fastened by a chain of gold, hung a splendid
helmet, which he offered as a prize to any knight who could overcome him
in single combat. To this he added a diamond, which he agreed to present
to any lady whom his victor should name. Whoever should first drop his
axe in the combat was to bestow a bracelet on his opponent. To this
Jacques added a singular stipulation, significant of queer doings in
those days, that neither knight should be fastened to his saddle. For
all else, he put his trust in God and his own right arm, and in the aid
that came to him from the love of "the fair lady who had more power over
him than aught besides throughout the entire world."

Thus prepared and thus defying, Sir Jacques rode through Paris and the
other cities of France without meeting a knight ready to accept his
challenge. This was due to the king, however, rather than to his
knights; Charles VII. had forbidden any of his chevaliers to fight the
bold Burgundian, the fame of whose strength and prowess was already
wide-spread. Through southern France, then in the hands of the English,
rode our hero, with the same fortune. Many were ready to meet him at
the board, none in the field. Into Spain he passed on, still without an
adversary, and sore in temper despite his pride in his reputation.

At last, in the realm of the Dons, he found a knight ready to break
lances with him in the field, out of pure duty to his "much loved lady,"
as he affirmed. This was Don Diego de Guzman, grand master of Calatrava,
whom he met on the borders of Castile, and who at once accepted his
challenge. Yet single combat in those days was not quite the easy affair
we might imagine it, if we judged from fiction and legend. Before a
knight could indulge in mortal affray he was obliged to obtain the
consent of his sovereign, provided that peace ruled between his country
and that of his antagonist, as was the case between Spain and Burgundy.
The