A friendly Squire at Nigel's elbow whispered the names of the
famous warriors beneath. "You are young Loring of Tilford, the
Squire of Chandos, are you not?" said he. "My name is Delves, and
I come from Doddington in Cheshire. I am the Squire of Sir James
Audley, yonder round-backed man with the dark face and close-
cropped beard, who hath the Saracen head as a crest above him."
"I have heard of him as a man of great valor," said Nigel, gazing
at him with interest.
"Indeed, you may well say so, Master Loring. He is the bravest
knight in England, and in Christendom also, as I believe. No man
hath done such deeds of valor."
Nigel looked at his new acquaintance with hope in his eyes. "You
speak as it becomes you to speak when you uphold your own master,"
said he. "For the same reason, Master Delves, and in no spirit of
ill-will to you, it behooves me to tell you that he is not to be
compared in name or fame with the noble knight on whom I wait.
Should you hold otherwise, then surely we can debate the matter in
whatever way or time may please you best."
Delves smiled good-humoredly. "Nay, be not so hot," said he.
"Had you upheld any other knight, save perhaps Sir Walter Manny, I
had taken you at your word, and your master or mine would have had
place for a new Squire. But indeed it is only truth that no
knight is second to Chandos, nor would I draw my sword to lower
his pride of place.
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