to a spectator we looked as though but few upon that field
would have the courage to touch either shield with any other than a
pointless lance.

Much then was my surprise when the gate at the end further from where
we waited, with impatient plumes and restless pennants, was, for some
reason unknown to all of us knights which waited at the North, flung
open, whilst ours remained closed. At this opening in dashed a knight
which, when he came sufficient close, I recognized, by his device, to
be none other than mine old foe, Catesby. Straight he rode up to where
I sat, grinding my teeth together, as silently I cursed my fortune for
preventing me from riding forth to meet him, that I might strike his
shield with my lance's point--for verily did I believe he came thus
soon to foil my purpose by challenging me to fight with pointless
weapon. On he came and, to my great surprise and pleasure, struck he
my shield with the sharp point of his lance.

Ah! my brave sons, ye all do know the pleasure 'tis when, with ring of
shield, ye are informed an enemy hath come to do ye battle.

Now were the separating bars removed, and, as Catesby rode to the far
end at a gentle trot, I entered with alacrity the field.

As Catesby passed the centre of the lists he paused for a moment
whilst, with much grace, he saluted the King, and then the ladies. His
example I followed.

After this came much cheering, and well meant advice, from those which
thought they better understood the game at which we were about to play
than we ourselves did. Most of these warnings came from old warriors
of other days, veterans of our great civil wars.

The trumpets now rang out from their metal throats the signal for the
fray. Forward we dashed, like two opposing thunderbolts. The hot wind
of the summer's morn whistled past mine ears, and sounded like unto
when one by accident doth irritate the canvas of his tent by scraping
against it with his scabbard's point, causing it to raise its
high-pitched voice in protest against the affront. The space betwixt
us closed up as quickly as when one with haste doth shut the covers of
a book. A crash! a benumbing twinge from finger's tips to shoulder;--a
blow, as from a hammer, on the shield;--the steeds stand up and paw the
air madly, as does a man when struggling in the waters;--my helm's
plumes do bend before mine eyes;--and when the particles of sand are
borne aside by the gentle broom of Nature I hold in my g