“Dost thou refuse my challenge, then?” demanded Sang, striking the butt end of his lance against the other cheek of the helmet with greater force than before.
The Knight of Cheviot was silent and disturbed for some moments.
“Nay, Sir Knight,” said the herald, “thou mayest not well refuse it, without forfeiting all right to tilting at this tourney.”
“Then will I accept it,” muttered the Knight of Cheviot, after a short silence of seeming hesitation. “What! must it be even now, saidst thou?”
“Ay, truly, as soon as the lists are clear for us,” replied Sang coolly; “for I take it some of them are hot at it by this time. I shall look to meet thee there forthwith, and I shall now hasten thither to secure us our turn.”
CHAPTER XLV.
The Tournament.
The Earl of Moray’s sylvan banquet of refreshment was by this time over, the balconies and galleries were already filled with the knights and ladies, and the lists were surrounded by the populace, all eagerly beholding the numerous tilting matches going on between young knights who wished to exercise themselves, and prove each other’s strength of arm, adroitness, and firmness of seat, or between squires or pages, who wished to earn their first harvest of fame. The sport had been as yet but indifferent. Most of those who had ridden against each other were novices, who afforded but a poor specimen of what the Scottish chivalry could do. The English knights, and, above all, the Lord Welles, were sneering to each other at the wretchedness of the exhibition, and every now and then throwing out sarcastic remarks against those who were engaged, whenever the occurrence of any slight piece of awkwardness gave them an opening for doing so. The Scottish knights who were within ear-shot of what dropped from them, were nettled at what they heard; and had not the sacred character of an ambassador compelled them to keep down their emotions, the Lord Welles, or some of his suite, might have been called on to show, in their own persons, what Englishmen could do; but, circumstanced as they were, none of the members of this diplomatic corps had considered [[312]]it as necessary to put up his blazon in the chapel of St. John.
“Thinkest thou, Courtenay, that there is any chance of men appearing here to-day?” said the Lord Welles, in a voice that showed he little cared who heard him, or what soreness he might occasion. “In my mind those have been but women and boys who have been tilting for our amusement.”