t thee, do
thy best to unhorse him. Remember also those things which I have told
thee ten thousand times before: hold thy toes well down and grip the
stirrup hard, more especially at the moment of meeting; bend thy body
forward, and keep thine elbow close to thy side. Bear thy lance point
one foot above thine adversary's helm until within two lengths of
meeting, and strike thou in the very middle of his shield. So, Myles,
thou mayst hold thine own, and come off with glory."

As he ended speaking he drew back, and Gascoyne, mounting upon a stool,
covered his friend's head and bascinet with the great jousting helm,
making fast the leathern points that held it to the iron collar.

As he was tying the last thong a messenger came from the Herald, saying
that the challenger was ready, and then Myles knew the time had come,
and reaching down and giving Sir James a grip of the hand, he drew on
his gauntlet, took the jousting lance that Wilkes handed him, and turned
his horse's head towards his end of the lists.

CHAPTER 27

As Myles took his place at the south end of the lists, he found the
Sieur de la Montaigne already at his station. Through the peep-hole in
the face of the huge helmet, a transverse slit known as the occularium,
he could see, like a strange narrow picture, the farther end of
the lists, the spectators upon either side moving and shifting with
ceaseless restlessness, and in the centre of all, his opponent, sitting
with spear point directed upward, erect, motionless as a statue of iron,
the sunlight gleaming and flashing upon his polished plates of steel,
and the trappings of his horse swaying and fluttering in the rushing of
the fresh breeze.

Upon that motionless figure his sight gradually centred with every
faculty of mind and soul. He knew the next moment the signal would be
given that was to bring him either glory or shame from that iron statue.
He ground his teeth together with stern resolve to do his best in the
coming encounter, and murmured a brief prayer in the hallow darkness of
his huge helm. Then with a shake he settled himself more firmly in his
saddle, slowly raised his spear point until the shaft reached the exact
angle, and there suffered it to rest motionless. There was a moment of
dead, tense, breathless pause, then he rather felt than saw the Marshal
raise his baton. He gathered himself together, and the next moment a
bugle sounded loud and clear. In one blinding rush he drove his sp