“What does the oracle say?” asked the Professor.
“It says you shall not,” replied the Prince, looking a good deal scared.
“Are you satisfied?” said the Professor.
The Prince did not answer, but he looked as if he suspected a trick of some kind, and would like to impale Professor Baffin with his lance, if he dared.
He was about to turn away in disgust, when Sir Agravaine, who stood beside him, in a few half-whispered words explained to him the method by which the Professor had imposed upon him.
In a raging fury, the Prince rode up to the Professor, and would have assailed him; but Baron Bors advanced and said:
“This gentleman is unarmed, and unused to our methods of combat. He is my guest, and he has saved my daughter. I will fight his battles.”
The Prince threw his glove at the Baron’s feet. Baron Bors called for his armor and his horse, and when he was ready he took his place opposite to his antagonist, and waited the signal for the contest.
“This,” said the Professor, “is probably the most asinine proceeding upon record. Because I won’t marry Sagramor’s daughter, Sagramor is going to fight with a man who never saw his daughter.”
