"Sir, will it please you to enter? The jousts are not yet over."
The ragged man bowed to the official ceremoniously, and bid the varlets who followed him lead the horse into the enclosure, which he also entered, and disappeared in the tent.
"'Tis the packhorse and baggage of the unknown knight," said one of the bystanders.
"Well, to be sure, but he do have odd varlets! and 'tis a shabby turn out."
"But where's the knight?" asked another.
"Oh, he's follering, surely!"
"Then he'd best look sharp, for there's the Breton knight going to begin."
All eyes were now turned upon the lists again.
The Marshal and Herald had returned. After speaking a few words to the Captain of the Wight, and handing him a note which the ragged man had given them, they took up their positions, and once more proclaimed silence.
The Captain of the Wight unfolded the scrap of paper, and with evident difficulty read the contents. His brow contracted, and a deep flush passed over his face.