The acclamations of thousands applauded the unanimous award of the Prince and Marshals, announcing that day's honours to the Disinherited Knight. CHAPTER X. In the midst was seen A lady of a more majestic mien, By stature and by beauty mark'd their sovereign queen. 康 豪 And as in beauty she surpass'd the choir, So nobler than the rest was her attire ; The Flower and the Leaf. William de Wyvil and Stephen de Martival, the marshals of the field, were the first to offer their congratulations to the victor, praying him, at the same time, to suffer his helmet to be unlaced, or, at least, that he would raise his visor ere they conducted him to receive the prize of the day's tournay from the hands of Prince John. The Disinherited Knight, with all knightly courtesy, declined their request, alleging, that he could not at this time suffer his face to be seen, for reasons which he had assigned to the heralds when he entered the lists. The marshals were perfectly satisfied with this reply, for amidst the capricious vows by which knights were accustomed to bind themselves in those days of chivalry, there was none more common than those by which they engaged to remain incognito for a certain space, or until some particular adventure was atchieved. The marshals, therefore, pressed no farther into the mystery of the Disinherited Knight, but announcing to Prince John the conqueror's desire to remain unknown, they requested permission to bring him before his grace, in order that he might receive the reward of his valour. John's curiosity was excited by the mystery observed by the stranger; and, being already displeased with the issue of the tournament, in which the challengers whom he favoured had been successively defeated by one knight, he answered haughtily to the marshals, "By the light of Our Lady's brow, this same knight hath been disinherited, as well of his courtesy as of his lands, since he desires to appear before us without uncovering his face.—Wot ye, my lords," he said, turning round to his train, "who this gallant can be, that bears himself thus proudly ?" 66 "I cannot guess," answered De Bracy, nor did I think there had been within the four seas that girth Britain a champion that could bear down these five knights in one day's jousting. By my faith, I shall never forget the force with which he shocked De Vipont. The poor Hospitaller was hurled from his saddle like a stone from a sling." "Boast not of that," said a Knight of St John, who was present; "your Temple champion had no better luck. I saw Bois-Guilbert roll thrice over, grasping his hands full of sand at every turn." Bracy, being attached to the Templars, would have replied, but was prevented by Prince John. "Silence, sirs!" he said; "what unprofitable debate have we here ?" "The victor," said De Wyvil,- "still waits the pleasure of your highness." "It is our pleasure," answered John, "that he do so wait until we learn whether there is not some one who can at least guess at his name and quality. Should he remain there till night, he has had work enough to keep him warm." "Your grace," said Waldemar Fitzurse, "will do less than due honour to the victor, if you compel him to wait till we tell your highness that which we cannot know; at least I can form no guess—unless he be one of the good lances who accompanied King Richard, and who are now straggling homeward from the Holy Land." "It may be the Earl of Salisbury," said Bracy; "he is about the same pitch." the "Sir Thomas de Multon, the knight of Gilsland rather," said Fitzurse; "Salisbury is bigin the bones." A whisper arose among the train, but by whom first suggested could not be ascertained. "It might be the King—it might be Richard Cœur-de-Lion himself." "Over God's forbode!" said Prince John, involuntarily turning at the same time as pale as death, and shrinking as if blighted by a flash of lightning; "Waldemar!—Bracy! brave knights |