"And now for a leaping bar," cried Hal of Hadnock. "Oh! there stands one I see by the trees. Away, Woodville! place it how high you will."
"I will beat you at that, noble sir," said young Hugh of Clatford, who was reported the best jumper and runner in the country.
"And should you do so, I will give you a quiver of arrows with peacocks' feathers," rejoined the gentleman. "Now, take it in turns, I will leap last."
Sir Simeon of Roydon declined the sport, however, and Sir Harry Dacre stood back; but Clatford, and others of the old knight's retainers, took their stations, as well as Richard of Woodville; and the bar having been placed high in the notches, each took a run and leapt; some touching it with their feet, some clearing it clean.
Hal of Hadnock then gave a gay smile to his fair companions, with whom he had for the time resumed his place; and advancing at a walk, as if to put the pole up higher, he quickened his pace, at the distance of three or four steps, and cleared it by several inches.
"You try him higher, Hugh," cried Richard of Woodville, laughing; "I have done my best, good faith."
"Where will you put it?" asked the traveller, turning to the young retainer of the house.
"Oh, at the highest notch," answered Hugh of Clatford, lifting up the bar; "can you do that, sir?"
"I will see," replied Hal of Hadnock; "stand back a bit," and, taking a better start, he ran, and went over, with an inch to spare.
Poor Hugh was less fortunate, however, for though he nearly accomplished the leap, he tipped the bar with his heel, cast it down, and overthrowing his own balance, fell upon his face, amidst the laughter of his comrades. He rose somewhat abashed, with bloody marks of his contact with the ground; but Hal of Hadnock laid his hand kindly on his arm, saying,