But although the lists rang with the applauses of his dexterity, it

was evident that he must at last be overpowered; and the nobles around

Prince John implored him with one voice to throw down his warder, and to

save so brave a knight from the disgrace of being overcome by odds.

"Not I, by the light of Heaven!" answered Prince John; "this

same springald, who conceals his name, and despises our proffered

hospitality, hath already gained one prize, and may now afford to

let others have their turn." As he spoke thus, an unexpected incident

changed the fortune of the day.

There was among the ranks of the Disinherited Knight a champion in

black armour, mounted on a black horse, large of size, tall, and to all

appearance powerful and strong, like the rider by whom he was mounted,

This knight, who bore on his shield no device of any kind, had hitherto

evinced very little interest in the event of the fight, beating off with

seeming ease those combatants who attacked him, but neither pursuing

his advantages, nor himself assailing any one. In short, he had hitherto

acted the part rather of a spectator than of a party in the tournament,

a circumstance which procured him among the spectators the name of "Le

Noir Faineant", or the Black Sluggard.

At once this knight seemed to throw aside his apathy, when he discovered

the leader of his party so hard bestead; for, setting spurs to

his horse, which was quite fresh, he came to his assistance like a

thunderbolt, exclaiming, in a voice like a trumpet-call, "Desdichado,

to the rescue!" It was high time; for, while the Disinherited Knight was

pressing upon the Templar, Front-de-Boeuf had got nigh to him with his

uplifted sword; but ere the blow could descend, the Sable Knight dealt

a stroke on his head, which, glancing from the polished helmet, lighted

with violence scarcely abated on the "chamfron" of the steed, and

Front-de-Boeuf rolled on the ground, both horse and man equally stunned

by the fury of the blow. "Le Noir Faineant" then turned his horse upon

Athelstane of Coningsburgh; and his own sword having been broken in his

encounter with Front-de-Boeuf, he wrenched from the hand of the bulky

Saxon the battle-axe which he wielded, and, like one familiar with

the use of the weapon, bestowed him such a blow upon the crest, that

Athelstane also lay senseless on the field. Having achieved this double

feat, for which he was the more highly applauded that it was totally

unexpected from him, the knight seemed to resume the sluggishness of

his character, returning calmly to the northern extremity of the lists,

leaving his leader to cope as he best could with Brian de Bois-Guilbert.

This was no longer matter of so much difficulty as formerly. The

Templars horse had bled much, and gave way under the shock of the

Disinherited Knight's charge. Brian de Bois-Guilbert rolled on the

field, encumbered with the stirrup, from which he was unable to draw his

foot. His antagonist sprung from horseback, waved his fatal sword over

the head of his adversary, and commanded him to yield himself; when

Prince John, more moved by the Templars dangerous situation than he had

been by that of his rival, saved him the mortification of confessing

himself vanquished, by casting down his warder, and putting an end to

the conflict.




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