dismounting.

"If you do not like the spot," he answered coolly, "we can ride
farther."

"No, I am satisfied," answered the knight; but before he had spoken the
last word he broke into a laugh again.

They tied up their horses to trees at a little distance, out of reach
of one another, and Gilbert was the first to return to the ring of open
ground. As he walked, he drew his father's sword from its sheath,
slipped the scabbard from the belt, and threw it to the edge of the
grass. Sir Arnold was before him a moment later; but his left hand only
rested on the pommel of his sheathed weapon, and he was still smiling
as he stopped before his young adversary.

"I should by no means object to fighting you," he said, "if I had
killed your father in treachery. But I did not. I saw you as well as
you saw me. Your Frenchman, as you call him, hindered your sight. Your
father was either beside himself with rage, or did not know me in my
mail. He dropped his point one instant, and then flew at me like a
bloodhound, so that I barely saved myself by slaying him against my
will. I will not fight you unless you force me to it; and you had
better not, for if you do, I shall lay you by the heels in two passes."

"Bragging and lying are well coupled," answered Gilbert, falling into
guard. "Draw before I shall have counted three, or I will skewer you
like a trussed fowl. One--two--"

Before the next word could pass his lips, Sir Arnold's sword was out,