"His heart is stronger than his body. In the first impact he was swept from his saddle by a mere stripling."
"And he is killed, wounded, or taken?"
"Neither, save that he is shaken by the fall, and the King vows that since he cannot hold his own against a youth he will send him home, seeing that his fighting days are over."
"And does Sir Reginald know of this?"
"Ay, and if the King will not relent—and he is hard to turn from his purpose—'twill be the first Scarsdale since the Conquest whose feet on his altar-tomb rest not upon a lion."
"Alas! the King's decision will hit him hard! Do you, Sir John, convey my expressions of regret to the gentle knight, and say that it will give me great pleasure should he deign to visit me."
For several days more Raymond lay weak and ill in his tent, but as April drew on and the weather became warmer his strength began slowly to return. At length, pale and wan, the young knight was able to walk slowly about the camp, supported by two of his archers.
Still the siege continued, a long-drawn, tedious task, with little chance of knightly deeds of daring to earn advancement. The close-drawn lines of the besiegers still kept tenacious grip upon the town, and, though famine and disease wrought havoc amongst its gallant defenders, the end seemed as far off as ever.
The return of summer found Sir Raymond Revyngton completely restored in health, though still chafing with impatience at the life of inactivity, for the younger knights looked with disfavour upon the King's methods of conducting the siege, and would rather have had the opportunity of leading their men to the assault than sit down before the town waiting for famine to do its fell work.
Friendly tilting-matches, hawking, and sports of a similar nature were indulged in, and Raymond, with an exuberance of energy, took a leading part in the pastimes. Many a pleasant afternoon was spent in the open country around the English lines, hunting or making sport with hounds and falcons, for not an armed Frenchman was to be seen within twenty leagues of Calais, save the starving wretches within its gates.