present he struck with the sharp end of his
spear the shield of Brian de Bois-Guilbert until it rang again. Amazed
at his presumption was the redoubted knight, whom he had thus defied to
mortal combat.

"Have you confessed yourself, brother," said the Templar, "that you
peril your life so frankly?"

"I am fitter to meet death than thou art," answered the Disinherited
Knight.

"Then look your last upon the sun," said Bois-Guilbert; "for this night
thou shalt sleep in paradise."

The champions closed in the centre of the lists with the shock of a
thunderbolt. The Templar aimed at the centre of his antagonist's shield,
and struck it so fair that his spear went to shivers, and the
Disinherited Knight reeled in his saddle. On the other hand, that
champion addressed his lance to his antagonist's helmet, and hit the
Norman on the visor, where his lance's point kept hold of the bars. The
girths of the Templar's saddle burst, and saddle, horse, and man rolled
on the ground under a cloud of dust.

To extricate himself from the stirrups and fallen steed, was to the
Templar scarce the work of a moment; and stung with madness, he drew his
sword, and waved it in defiance of his conqueror. The Disinherited
Knight sprung from his steed, and also unsheathed his sword. The
marshals of the field, however, intervened, for the laws of the
tournament did not permit this species of encounter, and Bois-Guilbert
returned to his tent in an agony of rage and despair.

The Disinherited Knight then sounded a defiance to each of the
challengers, and the four Normans each in his turn retired discomfited.

The acclamations of thousands applauded the unanimous award of the
Prince and marshals, announcing that day's honours to the Disinherited
Knight.

To Prince John's annoyance the champion declined either to raise his
visor or to attend the evening banquet, pleading fatigue and the
necessity of preparing for the morrow. As victor it was his privilege to
name the lady, who, as Queen of Honour and of Love, was to preside over
the next day's festival; and Prince John, having placed upon his lance a
coronet of green satin, the Disinherited Knight rode slowly around the
lists and paused beneath the balcony where Cedric and the Lady Rowena
were placed. Then he deposited the coronet at the feet of the fair
Rowena, while the populace shouted "Long live the Lady Rowena, the
chosen and lawful Queen of Love and of Beauty!"

On the following morning t