Now the combatants brace themselves for the final charge and for victory. The "Knight of the Sun" grasps his short lance with sinews of iron, whilst his gaze is intent upon the weapon of his antagonist. The signal is given, and the chargers bound like an avalanche across the intervening space. There is a quick swerve of the stranger's body, and Vigneau's lance passes like a flash over the mailed arm of the knight, a clear miss. Righting himself as deftly as he had swerved, and without permitting the point of his lance to deviate one iota from its mark, he closed in a deadly shock with the bulky Norman. The lance he held was so short that they seemed almost to rush into each other's arms; but the point was direct for his antagonist's chest. Vigneau, with an oath at the failure of his stroke, let go his lance, and aimed a blow with his clenched fist at his antagonist; but his act of blind fury was utterly futile and vain; with unerring aim the stranger struck him full on his steel breast-plate. There was a loud crash of tearing girths, and Vigneau rolled ignominiously to the ground amid a motley heap of horses, harness, and trappings.
Alice's head dropped on Jeannette's shoulder as she faintly asked, "Who's victor, Jeannette?"
"The stranger, lady; courage, courage! Vigneau is ignominiously overthrown."
"Thank God!" she ejaculated feebly, and her eyes closed in insensibility.
All eyes were now turned with a strange fascination towards the two antagonists, for Vigneau sprang to his feet, drew his broadsword, and brandishing it in the air like a demon, shouted "Joûte à l'outrance! Come on, varlet! it is to the death!"
The Abbot rushed into the arena, vainly endeavouring to restrain the blind fury of his brother; but with an oath the Baron threw him off, and rushed at his antagonist, who by this time had dismounted and stood on his guard. Fiercely exasperated, Vigneau rained blow upon blow, with the fury of a madman, whilst the stranger contented himself with coolly parrying or receiving on his shield the frantic blows of his assailant. The volcano-like rage of Vigneau quickly expended itself uselessly; soon limp, and spent, and utterly blown, he aimed a last blow with greatly diminished force. The stranger received it on his shield, whilst with concentrated energy he sprang upon Vigneau; his broadsword divided the air like lightning, and descended on the nape of Vigneau's neck, cutting clean through his armour, and well-nigh severing his head from his body. Vigneau threw up his arms wildly in the air as he dropped into his brother's arms, and shrieked frantically in his death agony, "The Saxon! 'Tis the Saxon!"
The cry acted like magic upon the whole multitude. Men sprang into the arena shouting madly to each other they knew not what. Horses reared and snorted, and plunged in dire confusion. The ruse also so consummately planned by Badger, in case of any hitch or exposure, was vigorously acted out. On the instant he and his comrades leaped into the arena, and deftly dodged in and out amongst the horses, and vigorously applied their goads to their flanks and sides, increasing the disorder and confusion a hundredfold.
Meantime, whilst the vengeful and sanguinary combat between the champions had been going on, the stranger's squire had seized the reins of Vigneau's charger as the spoil of the victor; but Pierre sprang at him in fierce resistance, and immediately the two squires also became engaged in a passage of arms as fiercely and as determinedly as their masters. Promptly Badger gave Wulfhere a vigorous push, which separated the pair. Then in a low tone, but unmistakably in earnest, he said, "Zounds, man! what are you doing? and where are your eyes? Can you not see there is not a moment to lose? Do you not see the Norman has detected your master? Fly, man, quick! or you're a dead man, and Oswald also."
Wulfhere, thus suddenly awakened to the peril of the situation, promptly took Badger's advice and vaulted into his saddle. But his blood was up, and as he did so, he turned to Pierre, and said,—
"I'll take care we meet again, villain, never fear. Then we will see whether aught will save thee from the fate which has befallen thy master, and which has been dogging thy heels this many a day."