Tristram laughed quietly at this, and bided his time. Nor was there long to wait, for just then a well-armed knight rode up, on a sturdy horse, and put his spear in rest as he approached.
"Now, my good sirs," said Tristram, "choose between yourselves which will joust with yonder knight; for I warn you that I will keep clear of him."
"Faith, you had better," said Gareth. "Leave him to me."
And he rode against the knight but with such ill-fortune that he was thrust over his horse's croup.
"It is your turn now," said Tristram to Dinadan. "Honor requires that you should avenge your comrade Gareth."
"Honor does, eh? Then reason does not, and I always weigh reason against honor. He has overturned a much bigger fellow than I, and with your kind permission I will not stir up that hornet."
"Aha, friend Dinadan, your heart fails you after all your boasting. Very well, you shall see what the coward can do. Make ready, sir knight."
Then Tristram rode against the victorious knight, and dealt him so shrewd a buffet that he was thrust from his horse.
Dinadan looked at this in amazement. Was this the fellow that professed cowardice and begged protection? "The cunning rogue," he said to himself, "has been making game of me. The rascal! where has he learned the art of turning my weapons on myself?"
The dismounted knight rose to his feet in anger, and drawing his sword, challenged Tristram to a fight on foot.