He beckoned now to a tall
knight, whose gaunt and savage face looked out from his open
bassinet as an eagle might from a cage of steel.
"Sir Hubert," said he, "I bear in mind the day when you overbore
the Frenchman at Caen. Will you not be our champion now?"
"When I fought the Frenchman, Walter, it was with naked weapons,"
said the knight sternly. "I am a soldier and I love a soldier's
work, but I care not for these tiltyard tricks which were invented
for nothing but to tickle the fancies of foolish women."
"Oh, most ungallant speech!" cried the King. "Had my good-consort
heard you she would have arraigned you to appear at a Court of
Love with a jury of virgins to answer for your sins. But I pray
you to take a tilting spear, good Sir Hubert!"
"I had as soon take a peacock's feather, my fair lord; but I will
do it, if you ask me. Here, page, hand me one of those sticks,
and let me see what I can do."
But Sir Hubert de Burgh was not destined to test either his skill
or his luck. The great bay horse which he rode was as unused to
this warlike play as was its master, and had none of its master's
stoutness of heart; so that when it saw the leveled lance, the
gleaming figure and the frenzied yellow horse rushing down upon
it, it swerved, turned and galloped furiously down the river-bank.
Amid roars of laughter from the rustics on the one side and from
the courtiers on the other, Sir Hubert was seen, tugging vainly at
his bridle, and bounding onward, clearing gorse-bushes and
heather-clumps, until he was but a shimmering, quivering gleam
upon the dark hillside.
Pages:
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154