orth from his sable pavilion, armed cap-a-pie in
a suit of highly-polished steel and bestriding a black and rather
over-dressed charger, he saw through the chinks of his lowered visor an
object which he would undoubtedly have mistaken for a diminutive
observation balloon if he had lived a few centuries later. In short, Sir
Bowles, having been sufficiently inflated by his now exhausted esquire, had
inserted his valve-pin into the tube (which he had tucked away and laced up
like an association football), and now emerged upon the lists with a
feeling of elation that he had not experienced for several days.

They approached each other. It was with some difficulty that our hero
wielded his mace, owing, first, to the inflated condition of his right arm,
and, secondly, to the unaccustomed weight of the weapon. His hold also upon
his curvetting steed was a little precarious, and he hoped that no one in
the crowd would notice the string that tied his legs together beneath the
horse's belly.

If the Baron was surprised at what he saw he made no sign, but, riding
straight at his strange antagonist, he dealt him a mighty blow on the left
side of the head, which had quite an unlooked-for result. The string which
attached our hero's legs held, it is true, but he naturally lost his
balance, and, being knocked to the right, disappeared temporarily from the
Baron's view. But the force of his swing was such that, at the moment when
he was head downwards under the horse, he still had enough way on to bring
him up again on the other side. No sooner had he regained a vertical
position than the Baron repeated the blow on the same spot and with the
same result.

Then the same thing happened again and again; and indeed Sir Bowles might
have revolved indefinitely, to the intense delight of the distinguished
audience, had not the string broken at the thirty-fourth revolution.

Now the involuntary movements of our hero had accelerated at every turn,
and when finally he parted company with his trusty steed he was going very
fast indeed. Falling near the edge of the lists, he found touch, first
bounce, in the Royal Box, whence some officious persons rolled him back
again into the field of play.

It must not be supposed that poor Sir Bowles was comfortable during these
proceedings. The rather ingenious apparatus whereby he had hoped to catch a
glimpse of his adversary had got out of order at the first onslaught, and
he was in total darkness. Mor