Their actual
occurrence however had become rare. There was the more curiosity,
not unmixed with amusement, in the thoughts of the courtiers as
they watched Chandos ride down to the bridge and commented upon
the somewhat singular figure of the challenger. His build was
strange, and so also was his figure, for the limbs were short for
so tall a man. His head also was sunk forward as if he were lost
in thought or overcome with deep dejection.
"This is surely the Cavalier of the Heavy Heart," said Manny.
"What trouble has he, that he should hang his head?"
"Perchance he hath a weak neck," said the King.
"At least he hath no weak voice," the Prince remarked, as Nigel's
answer to Chandos came to their ears. "By our lady, he booms like
a bittern."
As Chandos rode back again to the King, Nigel exchanged the old
ash spear which had been his father's for one of the blunted
tournament lances which he took from the hands of a stout archer
in attendance. He then rode down to the end of the bridge where a
hundred-yard stretch of greensward lay in front of him. At the
same moment the Squire of Sir Walter Manny, who had been hastily
armed by his comrades, spurred forward and took up his position.
The King raised his hand; there was a clang from the falconer's
horn, and the two riders, with a thrust of their heels and a shake
of their bridles, dashed furiously at each other.
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