As the tilt which was now about to take place was merely a friendly display of knightly prowess, and "for the honour of ladies and their delectation," the knights were to encounter with blunted lances and swords. The Marshal of the Lists having examined the arms, all who were in the enclosure were ordered out, and the knights only awaited the signal to begin.

Each knight was to ride three courses separately with his antagonist, and then three courses again afterwards.

There was now a lull in the busy hum of conversation that had been going on in the large crowd. Every one was on tip-toe of expectation to see the two knights who were first to encounter.

There they sat erect, a little in front of their comrades, their lances upright, the steel-clad figures stiff and immovable on their gorgeously-trapped horses. Not a movement could be seen in one or the other, only their pennons flickered in the light air, and the lambrequin or slashed cloth mantling of their helmets blew out from time to time.

As the names of the knights and esquires who were going to take part in the tilting had been affixed in the market-place of Newport, as well as on the gate of Carisbrooke Castle, for some days past, together with their coats-of-arms, the people all knew who was who.

"That's the sturdy Breton knight at that end, him in the white tabard, with the gold dragon on his breast," said a stout yeoman, who was one of a group of several men round a fair and buxom dame, whom Tom o' Kingston, being on duty, could only ogle from under his visor, and who was no other than the irresistible Polly Bremskete.

"And who's that at the other end; he looks a tough wight?"

"What, him in the gold coat and a green lion with a forked tail? That's young Sir John Dudley, him as married Mistress Bremshott up to Gatcombe."

"Marry! now who'd have thought such a small man would have looked so big. 'Tis the armour surely--how it do swell them out."

"Hush! they're going to begin."

The trumpets gave a flourish. The Marshal, after a pause, called out in a loud voice,--

"Laissez aller!"

At the first sound of the trumpet the two knights had brought their lances to the rest with a simultaneous and graceful sweep, causing the gay pennons to flash in the sun, they then remained motionless as before.

At the last word, they clapped spurs to their horses and rode straight for each other, bending their heads low down, leaning well forward, and covering themselves with their shields.

"Lord! what a crack!" cried Mistress Bremskete, in admiration.

"He's off! he's off!"

"No, that he bean't."

"He was parlous nigh anyway! I lay a yard o' broadcloth he'll be off next bout. But 'twas well done, leastways: that's what I will say."

The two knights had met with a violent splintering of spears in the midst of the lists. The Breton seemed never to feel the shock at all, for he rode on, tossing away the broken handle of his lance, after waving it aloft in the air. But the English knight reeled in his saddle; only he recovered himself directly, and rode up to the other end of the lists, where he turned, reined in his horse, and waited for his esquire to bring him another lance.

The trumpet sounded. The herald shouted,--"Well done, noble knights; remember the brave deeds of your ancestors. The ladies' eyes are upon you."

When the knights had received new lances, they once more awaited the signal. It soon came, and again the gleaming figures met in the rude shock. This time Sir John Dudley's lance struck the helmet of his opponent, and carried away the crest and part of the lambrequin, while the Breton knight's lance glanced off the ridged breast-plate, and, passing under the arm, the guard struck full against the cuirass of Sir John Dudley, and the two knights were both nearly unseated. Had they not been practised riders, and reined in their horses at the same moment, they must have fallen. As it was, they remained locked together for a moment, and so stood until the herald called out,--"Enough! 'tis well done; unloose."

They then disengaged, and rode back to their own end of the lists, amid the shouts of applause of the populace, and the music of the trumpeters.

"They are right skilful knights! I don't know as I ever saw better," said Tom o' Kingston to Humphrey, who stood near him holding a spare lance for his young master. "But there they go again. Holy Thomas! but he's off; good lack, I am parlous grieved. I would it had been the other."

A groan and shout of applause mingled together, while a dull thud and clang of metal falling, announced that one of the knights had been thrown.

"Marry, I am sorry 'tis poor young Sir John; and there's his wife looking on now! Well, 'tis a pity, to be sure," said Mistress Bremskete.

"Ay, but she takes it mighty comfortable anyway. See how she's laughing with the Lord Abbot of Quarr there."

"Well then she hadn't ought, that's what I say, Look! they're picking of him up. Alack, poor man, how he do bleed! 'Tis from the mouth, seemingly. Well-a-day! well-a-day! but 'twas a rude knock."

And so amid the plaudits of the crowd and the clarion blasts of the trumpets, the Breton knight returned to his end of the list, and took his station next the last of the challengers, receiving their congratulations as he rode up, while his luckless antagonist was helped out of the lists, to be attended to in the tent set aside for the reception of those wounded in the tilt.

The next knight who rode out from the challengers' end was Sir Amand de la Roche Guemené. As he took up his place, he turned towards Yolande and bowed low to his saddle-bow.

"Why, he's wearing the same colours she's got on! Well, to be sure, that's a merry jest! Can't she find among all our island gentry one to her taste, but she must go giving away her favours to them jackanapes Frenchmen? But 'tis ever the way with your high-born wenches; they always goes after what's strange, never mind how ugly it be, if only it be something new. It all comes of so many running after them."

"Then, Mistress Bremskete, you ought to like those Breton gents, seeing the many suitors you have," said the ready yeoman by her side, with a knowing leer, giving his buxom companion a nudge with his elbow.

"Go along with ye, Master Paxhulle! you're always fooling us poor wenches with your soft tongue."

"I'll have to trounce that Paxhulle, I see," said Tom o' Kingston savagely, to Humphrey, upon whom the merry glance of Mistress Bremskete, and the leer of her companion, were in no way lost.

"I say, that's Sir John's nephew there. I do hope he'll do well! 'Tis a nice youth; but they're all too young, to my mind. These Breton knights have been well tried in many tilts, and are tough and skilled. But there they go! Good luck go with him--ah!--'Twas well done! He's a brave youth."

After splintering their lances without any further damage, the two cavaliers cantered on to the end of the lists, wheeled round and faced each other, taking the fresh lances handed them by their esquires.

Whether it were that young Trenchard really bore himself with greater skill and address, or that his antagonist, out of knightly courtesy to the trusty friend of his host, the Captain of the Wight, forebore to use all his skill and strength, it happened that the three courses were ridden without any mishap beyond a plentiful splintering of lancewood, and a rending of knightly finery.

Sir John Trenchard was evidently pleased, and accepted the congratulations of Lord Woodville and Mistress Lisle with but half-dissembled satisfaction.

"'Tis a good lad, and will do well," he said, "an the ladies spoil him not; for he is comely, and of fair manners."

The next knight to ride out from the challengers' end was Sir Richard Cornwall, a very powerful, strong knight in magnificent armour. His appearance was greeted with a hum of applause.

"Now, that's what I call a hardy knight, and something like a man. None of your little jackanapes of Frenchmen and raw youth. Look at his bone--look at his breadth of chest. 'Tis a pity he's an overrun."

"But 'tis a strong man he's got against him. 'Tis Master Meaux o' Kingston."

"Marry! that's right. 'Tis a good Island name, and he's a stout Island gentleman, too. 'Twill be a rare tussle."

The words of caution were given. The order to go followed, and the two strong figures on their powerful horses met in the midst.

There was a shout of applause from every one. The two lances flew up into a thousand splinters, the two horses fell back on their haunches, and the steel-clad figures, erect and firm, wheeling them round, rode back for fresh spears.

"'Twill be a marvel an one of them does not get an ugly knock," said Humphrey.

"Ay, marry will it; they're tough men-at-arms--but I wish one o' them splinters would hit that Paxhulle in the eye!" said Tom o' Kingston savagely; "it 'ud stop his leering for some time."

Once more the signal was given, and this time something was bound to go. The shock was tremendous.

"Holy Thomas! he's off! he's down! Mercy! but 'twas a fine stroke! Ah! my gay gentleman, but you're on your back now. Well done, Master Meaux! The Island for ever! A............