"There, a pretty lover!" exclaimed Dorothy, as her suitor walked away, "but I have given him his answer."

"Hush, my lady," whispered the maid.

"We shall be able to get it all arranged for a week to-day, and you shall be queen of the tourney, Maude, if it so please you."

"I, Sir George? I indeed!" replied the dame. "Pooh! my queening days are gone. It must be either Margaret or Dorothy."

"Fancy," whispered Lattice, "you the queen of the tournament!"

"Hush!"

"But I hear he is likely to lose the Ashby estates. Think of that, Sir George; think of that. He would be a poor man directly."

"Why, how?"

"The Ashby estates were forfeited to the De la Zouches, but King Henry granted them back before he died, and I hear they are like to go at last."

"It were a pity for Sir Henry, but in truth, Maude, I like him not."

"Pooh, nonsense! He wants none of our pity, but I tell thee Dorothy is too good a match to throw away upon him."

"Perhaps so, Maude," replied the baron; "it may be so, but I shall be much mistaken if, after the tournament, he is able to ask for her again, but if he does I will refer him to you."

"That will do, Lettice," said Dorothy. "I have heard quite sufficient.

Shut the window; I will go now and see how they are faring on the bowling green. I have a lighter heart now." And followed by a "G.o.d speed you" from her maid, she opened the door and pa.s.sed out of the room.

CHAPTER VIII.

A TOURNAMENT. THE COMBAT.

At this the challenger, with fierce defy, His trumpet sounds; the challenged makes reply.

DRYDEN.

Gra.s.s did not grow beneath the feet of the good people of Haddon during the week which ensued. Inside the Hall everything was in confusion and disorder. Rooms were being emptied of hangings which had lain undisturbed repose for many a long year, and everybody was eager to bring to light such old relics of previous tourneys which had ever taken place there as could be discovered outside, and the stir was not one whit less. The level sward through which the Wye rippled on its way to join the Derwent, having once been selected as the battle ground, was immediately transformed from a scene of lovely rustic peacefulness to a very pandemonium of noisy workmen, out of which slowly evolved tents and pavilions for the accommodation of the numerous visitors who were expected to witness the struggle.

The news had spread far and wide, and a large number of persons, attracted by the well-known splendour and hospitality of the King of the Peak, as well as by the desire to witness the rare exhibition of a tournament, which was now about extinct, a.s.sembled at Haddon as the time appointed for the fray drew nigh.

At length the eventful morning dawned. Everything was fully prepared.

The white tents, with their fluttering pennons of many lines, occupied one side of the ground; the balconies, decked with their brightly coloured hangings, faced them from the other side, and a slightly elevated platform, upon which was the throne for the queen of the tourney, filled one end, while the other was left open for such of the neighbouring villagers as liked to come.

Long before the appointed hour the s.p.a.ce had been filled up by eager sightseers. Men and women, lads and la.s.ses, old folk and young, all alike were there, tricked out in holiday attire. Not a coign of vantage was lost sight of, and every tree which might reasonably have been expected to yield a glimpse of the scene was crowded by rustics, eager to gaze upon so rare an exhibition. Behind all rose the grey old towers of the Hall, which presented a very picturesque appearance as the sun flashed upon its turrets, and its flags waved to and fro in the gentle breeze. Haddon had witnessed many stirring scenes before, but surely never a more brilliant one than was about to be enacted.

Jousts were divided into two cla.s.ses. The "joust a plaisir" was a mere knightly display of skill, and was fought with weapons, the edges of which were dulled; but the other, the "joust a l'outrance," was of a far more dangerous kind. Lances, swords, and even, occasionally, mace-like weapons with sharp spikes were used, and it rarely happened that serious injuries did not result, while not unfrequently it was accompanied by a fatal termination.

Additional interest was attached to this tournament, inasmuch as it was of the latter cla.s.s, and when the sound of the herald's trumpets was heard, a shout of admiration went up from the a.s.semblage, as the gates swung open and the party descended from the Hall; and round after round of praise was accorded by the crowd as the cavalcade wended its way through it, and took up its allotted position in the tents and on the balconies.

Without waiting any time Dorothy seated herself upon the throne, and giving the signal to commence by waving a dainty little flag, the trumpeters took it up and blew a loud blast upon their instruments.

This was the summons for the combatants to appear, and amid the tumultuous greetings of the whole a.s.sembly, Manners and De la Zouch came forward from either side of the balcony, and each, well protected with armour, stood leaning upon his charger while the herald read aloud the order of the King of the Peak, by whose command the tourney was held.

Having read it out, this functionary retired with all the grace and speed at his command; the trumpet sounded again, and the two a.s.sailants leapt simultaneously into the saddle. A minute later the galloping rush, the sound of contending hors.e.m.e.n, and the noise of shivering lances told the outsiders that the conflict had begun.

So terrible was the shock as the two met together in the centre of the ring that it seemed utterly impossible that either of them could recover from it, but after the first thrust and parry they each pa.s.sed on, apparently uninjured, and wheeling their horses around, with lances couched they paused to spy out a weak point in the other's defence.

Every breath was hushed, and every eye was strained, to the uttermost as the anxious onlookers stood on tiptoe to follow every movement of the compet.i.tors.

But neither the knight nor the esquire appeared to be particularly eager to commence the struggle. Each waited for the other to advance, and for a moment or two they stood perfectly still, keenly regarding each other through the bars of their visors.

"They are not going to fight, Sir George," exclaimed De Lacey, in piteous, tones, "and I've come all this weary way to see the sport."

"Never fear, Sir John," replied the baron cheerily, "you'll see sport enough soon; they will begin directly, but they don't know each other's mettle yet."

Even as he spoke Manners rode forward and the conflict was renewed.

Sir Henry de la Zouch was famous at the London schools for his brilliant lance play, and many of his friends had accepted his invitation to witness his triumph; but, although it was antic.i.p.ated that he would win easily enough with that weapon, it was feared by his well-wishers that unless he succeeded in placing his combatant hors de combat then, his chance of doing so with the sword would be considerably less.

De la Zouch himself knew this, although he would not own it, and it made him cautious. For a long time he stood carefully upon his guard, but at last, espying a favourable opportunity, he darted a fierce blow at the vizor of his opponent, hoping it would pierce the bars and transfix itself there. It was a well-aimed thrust, and almost proved successful, but, unfortunately for De la Zouch, Manners unwittingly foiled him by rising in his saddle at the same time to deliver a similar blow at him, and instead of receiving the lance upon his helmet, he caught it in the very centre of his breast-plate. Still the blow was delivered with so powerful a stroke that, standing in the stirrups as Manners was, it completely upset his balance, and he fell over.

A great shout rose up at this feat, but Dorothy turned her face aside, fearing that he whom she loved was stricken down never to rise again, and wishing, for the fiftieth time, that she was in her own chamber, peacefully occupied in st.i.tching at her tapestry.

But the shout was broken off suddenly--to be succeeded the next moment by another, louder and more prolonged, for, although taken unawares and overturned, Manners put into execution a trick he had learned in Holland, and sliding under the belly of the horse, he nimbly swung himself up by the girths on the other side, and reseated himself in the saddle, much to the astonishment of De la Zouch, who imagined he had unhorsed him, and much to the delight of the audience, which greeted him with plaudits again and again renewed.

"See!" exclaimed De Lacey, with eyes wide open with astonishment, "where's he come from?"

"Never saw a neater thing in my life," replied Sir George, enraptured at the trick. "Look now!"

Sir John looked as he was bidden, and saw the astounded De la Zouch receive a stinging blow on his arm from his opponent ere he had recovered from his surprise.

As the lances of both were now broken, the trumpet sounded, and the combatants, nothing loth, rode off for a few minutes' rest, and a fresh supply of weapons.

The latter having been procured, they very quickly renewed the struggle, and this time De la Zouch had better fortune, for just as the bugles were sounding for them to cease he pierced the joint of Manners' armour, and inflicted a nasty flesh wound upon his elbow.

As the latter would not own himself vanquished, even at Dorothy's request, the conflict was resumed, and this time with swords, and here the inferiority of De la Zouch was soon apparent. Though he was no mean swordsman, yet his opponent was far more than a match for him, and blow after blow was rained down upon him, whilst on his own part Sir Henry was too busily engaged in defending himself to attempt to act on the offensive. He was hard pressed, and it was fortunate indeed for him when the signal was given which called upon them both to desist awhile, in order to gain fresh breath, and to put to rights, as far as they were able, the damages they had already received.

The interval was filled up by the shouts of the onlookers, who now made up for their previous silence by loudly criticising the deeds of their respective champion, and vociferously calling out their particular favourite worthless instructions how to proceed when the conflict was continued.

Eustace stood ready to receive his master, and give him cordials wherein to reinvigorate his nerves, while Crowleigh was in waiting in lieu of a page, to bathe his friend's wounds with water.

The sight of blood, which slowly trickled from Manners' arm, reminded a Woode that he was a doctor, and, leaping from his seat, he clambered over the balcony and rushed across the arena to where the wounded esquire was standing.

"Let me see it," he cried. "This must be stopped at once. Sir Henry, I declare you the winner of the----"

"Hold there," cried Manners, "I have not yielded yet."