ers start
to joust, and one either by maladdress or misadventure fail to meet
the shock, then his arms become the property of him who still holds
the lists. This being so, methinks, Sir Hubert de Burgh, that the fine
hauberk of Milan and the helmet of Bordeaux steel in which you rode to
Tilford should remain with our young host as some small remembrance of
your visit."

The suggestion raised a general chorus of approval and laughter, in
which all joined, save only Sir Hubert himself, who, flushed with anger,
fixed his baleful eyes upon Chandos' mischievous and smiling face.

"I said that I did not play that foolish game, and I know nothing of its
laws," said he; "but you know well, John, that if you would have a bout
with sharpened spear or sword, where two ride to the ground, and only
one away from it, you have not far to go to find it."

"Nay, nay, would you ride to the ground? Surely you had best walk,
Hubert," said Chandos. "On your feet I know well that I should not see
your back as we have seen it to-day. Say what you will, your horse has
played you false, and I claim your suit of harness for Nigel Loring."

"Your tongue is overlong, John, and I am weary of its endless clack!"
said Sir Hubert, his yellow mustache bristling from a scarlet face. "If
you claim my harness, do you yourself come and take it. If there is a
moon in the sky you may try this very night when the board is cleared."

"Nay, fair sirs," cried the King, smiling from one to the other, "this
matter must be followed no further. Do you fill a bumper of Gascony,
John, and you also, Hubert. Now pledge each other, I pray you, as good
and loyal comrades who would scorn to fight save in your King's quarrel.
We can spare neither of you while there is so much work for brave hearts
over the sea. As to this matter of the harness, John Chandos speaks
truly where it concerns a joust in the lists, but we hold that such a
law is scarce binding in this, which was but a wayside passage and a
gentle trial of arms. On the other hand, in the case of your Squire,
Master Manny, there can be no doubt that his suit is forfeit."

"It is a grievous hearing for him, my liege," said Walter Manny; "for he
is a poor man and hath been at sore pains to fit himself for the wars.
Yet what you say shall be done, fair sire. So, if you will come to me in
the morning, Squire Loring, John Widdicombe's suit will be handed over
to you."

"Then with the King's leave, I will hand it