last out he sprang, and muttered fiercely when ordered back.
The second blast brought him out again, and this time the king himself
sent him back "with an ugly word." The third blast sounded. Out now flew
both combatants. Battle-axe in hand, they made at each other, and soon
the ring of axe on helmet delighted the ardent souls of the thousands of
lookers-on. At length, Diego's axe was hurled from his hand. Jacques,
with knightly courtesy, threw down his, and an interval of wrestling for
the mastery followed. Then they drew their swords, and assailed each
other with undiminished fierceness. What might have been the result it
is not easy to say; Sir Jacques had no carpet knight to deal with in Don
Diego; but the king ended the business by throwing his truncheon into
the lists, and refusing permission to the combatants to finish their
fight on horseback, as they wished. They thereupon shook hands, while
the air rang with the shouts of the spectators.

In the end Don Guzman behaved well. He praised the skill and courage of
his antagonist, and presented him with an Andalusian horse, covered
with rich trappings. In this Jacques was not to be outdone. He sent the
Don a charger of great beauty and value, whose coverings were of blue
velvet embroidered in gold, and the saddle of violet velvet. Banquets
and balls followed the combat; the combatants were feasted to their
hearts' content; and Sir Jacques at length left the court of Spain
loaded with presents and covered with honor.

And now the "good knight" turned his steps homeward, challenging all
champions as he went, but without finding an opponent. Feasting he found
in abundance; but no fighting. Stopping at Montpelier, he became the
guest of Jacques Coeur, silversmith and banker to Charles VII. His
worthy host offered him money freely, and engaged to redeem any
valuables which the wandering knight might have found it necessary to
pawn. Sir Jacques thanked him, but said,--

"My good master, the Duke of Burgundy, provides all that is necessary
for me, and allows me to want for nothing."

Soon after, our errant knight reached Philip's court, where he was
received with the highest honors. Then to his paternal castle he wended
his way, to be welcomed by his proud parents as gladly as if he had won
the Holy Grail. Dancing and rejoicing followed, in which all the
neighboring noble families participated, and many a fair damsel shed her
smiles--in vain it seems--on the famous and