"It is empty!" he cried. "It weighs as light as a feather."
"'Fore God, it is true!" cried Manny, laying his hand on it.
"There is no one in it. With what have I fought, father Bishop?
Is it of this world or of the next?"
The Bishop had clambered on his horse the better to consider the
point. "If the foul fiend is abroad," said he, "my place is over
yonder by the King's side. Certes that sulphur-colored horse hath
a very devilish look. I could have sworn that I saw both smoke
and flame from its nostrils. The beast is fit to bear a suit of
armor which rides and fights and yet hath no man within it."
"Nay, not too fast, father Bishop," said one of the knights. "It
may be all that you say and yet come from a human workshop. When
I made a campaign in South Germany I have seen at Nuremberg a
cunning figure, devised by an armorer, which could both ride and
wield a sword. If this be such a one--"
"I thank you all for your very gentle courtesy," said a booming
voice from the figure upon the ground.
At the words even the valiant Manny sprang into his saddle. Some
rode madly away from the horrid trunk. A few of the boldest
lingered.
"Most of all," said the voice, "would I thank the most noble
knight, Sir Walter Manny, that he should deign to lay aside his
greatness and condescend to do a deed of arms upon so humble a
Squire.
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