“Thou art right, Humphrey. Cared we to cumber us with such gear, I trow we could give them a wholesome lesson, had the thick-skulled churls but the wit to profit by it!”
This was too much for young Will Wade, who, having just won the sword-and-buckler contest, turned short round, and said hotly—
“With your tongues ye are doughty champions, in truth; but if ye would try other weapons, come on!”
“And I,” cried the stout smith (victor in the wrestling-match), “will gladly try a fall with these big talkers, and let ’em feel how a smith’s vice can pinch!”
Gilbert, with a scornful laugh, threw off his upper garment, and closed with the smith; and Humphrey, furnished with sword and buckler, faced Will Wade.
This time the village champions had met their match. Brave Will stood to it as stoutly as man could do, but he had no chance with one whose sword had been daily in his hand for years, and who added to this long practice the coolness learned in actual battle. The bout ended in his utter defeat; and at the same moment Ned Smith (who, with all his strength, was no match for his opponent’s cool science) was sent sprawling by a dexterous back-trip.
“Now,” cried Humphrey, boastfully, “I will stake the prize I have won, and five gold nobles to boot, if any man here will try a bout with me. Who takes my proffer?”
“With good St. George’s aid, that do I!” said a calm voice behind him; and Sir Alured himself rose and stepped down into the ring.
The downcast faces all brightened at once, and a shout rent the air; for it was the firm belief of all Deerham village that there was no feat at which “the good lords of Claremont” were not a match for any man living; and the villagers were as confident of seeing these bullies humbled, as if both were conquered already.
Even the vaunting Humphrey felt a momentary chill, which (as usual with such base natures) he strove to cover with extra insolence.