"Your Grace," said one of the friars, "we three men of God can explain this matter that so nearly touches the honor of our fair countryman, the noble Count Calli."
"In God's name, do so," exclaimed the duke.
"This is the explanation, most gracious lord. When the third course was preparing, we three men of God prayed in concert to God the Father,"--all the friars crossed themselves,--"God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, to save our countryman, and lo! our prayers were most graciously answered; for, noble lord, at the moment when this most valiant knight was about to kill our friend, we each heard a report marvellously like to the discharge of an arquebuse. At the same instant a fiery shaft descended from the palm of a mighty hand in the heavens, and the horse of this valiant and most generous knight, Sir Max, fell dead, stricken by the hand of God."
I had no doubt that this absurd explanation would be received with scorn and derision; but the friar knew his audience, and I did not. His statement was not really accepted as true, but it was not cast aside as utterly absurd. I saw that it might easily be believed.
"Why did not others see your wondrous shaft from the hand of God?" I asked.
"Because, noble lord," answered the friar, "our eyes were looking upward in prayer. All others were fixed on this worldly combat."
The explanation actually seemed to explain.
Just then the men who had been sent out to seek evidence concerning the shot returned, and reported that no arquebuse was to be found. The lists were surrounded by an open field, and a man endeavoring to escape would have been seen.
"Did you search all places of possible concealment for an arquebuse?" asked the duke.
"All, my lord," answered the men, who were Burgundians and to be trusted.