“The Count of Ferroll will not be discomfited,” said Lady Montfort. “He is one of those men who never fail.”
“Well, I do not know,” said the Knight of the Dolphin musingly. “The prince has a stout lance, and I have felt it.”
“He had the best of it this morning,” said Endymion rather bitterly. “Every one thought so, and that it was very fortunate for the Count of Ferroll that the heralds closed the lists.”
“It might have been fortunate for others,” rejoined Lady Montfort. “What is the general opinion?” she added, addressing the Knight of the Dolphin. “Do not go away, Mr. Ferrars. I want to give you some directions about to-morrow.”
“I do not think I shall be at the place to-morrow,” muttered Endymion.
“What!” exclaimed Berengaria; but at this moment Mr. Sidney Wilton came up and said, “I have been looking at the golden helm. It is entrusted to my care as King of the Tournament. It is really so beautiful, that I think I shall usurp it.”
“You will have to settle that with the Count of Ferroll,” said Berengaria.
“The betting is about equal,” said the Knight of the Dolphin.
“Well, we must have some gloves upon it,” said Berengaria.
Endymion walked away.