"Let Master Meaux tackle him," shouted the crowd. "You've done enough, Master Lisle."
After a little consultation, it was agreed that the unknown knight should encounter Master Meaux. The interest again became very intense.
"'Twill be a tough bout this time, but I'd lay odds on Master Meaux."
"I dunno, Master Tom, 'tis a big 'oss the other rides, and he's a good lance. Ah! he's off. Body o' me, what a crash!"
There was a universal shout from the spectators, of amazement and disappointment.
"The Rusty Knight," as he was ignominiously called, had entirely changed his tactics, riding closely along the barrier, and urging his large horse to its utmost speed. With helm well down behind his shield, and his body bent forward, he struck Master Meaux a fierce blow with his powerful lance; there was no resisting the vigour of that thrust, and the weight of horse and man propelling it. The blow was aimed at the right shoulder, and blunt as the spear-point was, it broke through the steel pauldron, or shoulder-piece, and, driving in the gusset of chain mail, inflicted a severe wound, carrying the unfortunate Master Meaux over the saddle backwards.
The success was as complete as it was unexpected. No one, not even the most experienced knight there, had any idea that the new comer would have displayed such skill and enormous strength. For to unhorse a man-at-arms of the weight and address of Master Meaux, required a very great exercise of both qualities. There now only remained one survivor on each side. There could be no doubt of the issue, after such an exhibition of power.
"'Tis the best lance I have seen," said Sir John Trenchard.
"Ay, he's a stout lance, but I have seen a better," said the Captain of the Wight, smiling; "but let us see what he will do now."
To the astonishment of everyone, the unknown knight rode the next three courses exactly as he had previously done in his last encounter with Ralph, only in the last round he carried off the little glove on the point of his lance, which fluttered in Ralph's helmet.