Alys sat silent, a sympathetic fear creeping over her. What could she say to comfort this trembling maiden?
"But how can these men hurt him? he will be mounted, and they are on foot. Dost think that they will join in the tourney too?"
"Nay; I should fear them less did they do so. Hugh would be more than a match for any of them, skilled as he is in knightly exercises, strong, and full of courage. He could unhorse Roger de Horn at one blow, despite his size and strength; and that does yon coward and braggart well know, wherefore he will not meet him in fair fight. What I fear is an ambushment, in which my lover will be carried off by those wicked men. And if he be thus spirited away, Heaven alone knows what fate may await him: for I am very sure that these confederates have sold themselves to the Evil One, and are masters of unholy crafts that we wot not of; and as all men know, when such seize upon a human victim, they do him to death with their black arts in some fearful fashion, seeking to wrest his soul from him ere they let go their hold upon his body!" and Linda trembled in every limb.
Alys shivered also, for these words sounded mysterious and terrible. She did not understand their import, but none the less did they fill her with horror.
But before another word could be said the sound of trumpet blasts smote upon the ears of the crowd, a great shout rent the welkin, and from opposite sides of the field two gallant parties of mounted revellers rode in—banners flying, lances in rest—and made a complete circuit of the meadow, the crowd flying right and left before them, until the field, lately covered with groups of merry-makers, became cleared for the tiltings of the mounted rivals.
It was a gallant show of student prowess, and for a while all went well; the combatants were fairly well matched, and good-humour prevailed over feelings of emulation and rivalry.
The sun slowly sank in the sky, but the revelry and joustings still went on. The crowd had closed in more and more upon the combatants, and now there was to be one great final charge, all the horsemen taking part in it together—a sort of mock battle before the sun should set.
Edmund was growing rather weary, but was still keenly interested; whilst Amalric, who had declined to join in the jousting, and had remained all the while with brother and sister, gazed very intently at the grouping of the crowd, and in particular at the movements of certain black figures, who seemed to be directing in a rather curious fashion the actions of certain knots of clerks and citizens, who were drawing ever nearer and nearer to the scene of action.
"Methinks, Edmund," he said suddenly, "that thou and Alys had better be turning homewards. The sun will soon be gone, and this is the last of the merry-making. It would be well not to get hemmed in by the crowd as it breaks up. I will call up the men, and we will return," and as he spoke he gave Edmund a look which the latter instantly understood.
Alys would fain have lingered, fascinated by the strange sight presented by the plain, where she could have fancied a real battle was raging. There were such shouting, such clashing of arms, such defiant yells from the combatants, that she almost trembled where she stood; and when she mounted her palfrey, she felt that the creature was trembling also at the unwonted clamour.