"
Thus adjured, the King set spurs to his horse, and the whole
cavalcade cantered over the heath in the direction which Chandos
showed. Presently as they came over a slope they saw beneath them
a winding river with an old high-backed bridge across it. On the
farther side was a village green with a fringe of cottages and one
dark manor house upon the side of the hill.
"This is Tilford," said Chandos. "Yonder is the house of the
Lorings."
The King's expectations had been aroused and his face showed his
disappointment.
"Is this the sport that you have promised us, Sir John? How can
you make good your words?"
"I will make them good, my liege."
"Where then is the sport?"
On the high crown of the bridge a rider in armor was seated,
lance in hand, upon a great yellow steed. Chandos touched the
King's arm and pointed. "That is the sport," said he.
IX. HOW NIGEL HELD THE BRIDGE AT TILFORD
The King looked at the motionless figure, at the little crowd of
hushed expectant rustics beyond the bridge, and finally at the
face of Chandos, which shone with amusement.
"What is this, John?" he asked.
"You remember Sir Eustace Loring, sire?"
"Indeed I could never forget him nor the manner of his death."
"He was a knight errant in his day."
"That indeed he was--none better have I known."
"So is his son Nigel, as fierce a young war-hawk as ever yearned
to use beak and claws; but held fast in the mews up to now.
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