“He’ve took after his own pigs, he have; he be a-rooting up the earth with his nose!”
The winner was young Will Wade, who had been one of the loudest in praise of his young lords; and Will made so good a start for the foot-race (which came next) that he seemed likely to win that too. But just when close to the goal, he glanced aside a moment at the pretty face of his betrothed, Gillian Gray, who was watching him breathlessly; and in that moment his foot slipped, and down he came!
He was up again at once, but too late. The next man had reached the goal, and poor Will was but second-best!
“Vex not thyself for that, lad,” said Sir Hugo, kindly; “it was but an ill chance. Hadst thou been chasing the foes of our king and Old England, I warrant thy foot would have been steady enow; and thou hast shown how quickly a true Englishman can start up from a fall.”
“On that matter your worships should be well able to judge,” said the young athlete, bluntly, as he pouched the two gold pieces handed him by way of consolation, “being yourselves as true Englishmen as ever breathed!”
“Hear’st thou that, Hugo?” laughed Alured. “Times are changed, methinks, since our great-grandsire was wont to say, as the worst penalty he could invoke on his own head, ‘May I become an Englishman!’”
In hurling the bar, the best man was the brawny village smith, who received the prize from Alured’s own hand, with a kind word that he valued even more; and now but two “events” remained—the sword-and-buckler play, and the wrestling.
Just then the twins’ keen eyes took note of two tall, sturdy men in half-armour, who had pushed their way forward with small ceremony into the front rank of the crowd.
Both wore the silver spurs of esquires, but their behaviour did not at all befit their rank; for they seemed bent on showing their contempt for the sports and all connected with them as offensively as possible. At first they were content with scornful looks and muttered words of disdain; but when the sword-play commenced, the self-constituted critics began to utter their sneers aloud, so insolently that had not the lords of the manor been present, the sturdy villagers would soon have made these swaggerers change their tune.
“Did I not tell thee so, Gilbert?” cried the taller of the two. “This is what comes of rusting at home, and seeing nought of the world. Belike these yokels think they are very St. Georges; but we could teach them another tale.”