Then it was that Isoult suddenly sat up and looked at Prosper. He
could not read her face, but knew by her stiff-poised head that she
was quivering. He said nothing, but made a motion, a swift jerk with
his head, to wave her out of the way. Galors responded by first
tightening, finally relaxing, his hold upon her waist. She slipt down
from the saddle, and stood hesitating what to do. She had waited for
this moment so long, that the natural thing had become the most
unnatural of all. Prosper never glanced at her, but kept his eyes
steadily on Galors. The times--in his mannish view--were too great for
lovers. Isoult stept back into the shadows.
The two men at once saluted in knightly fashion, wheeled, and rode
apart. The lists were a long alley between the pines, all soft moss
and low scrub of whortleberry and heather. Galors had the hill behind
him, but no disadvantage in that unless he were pushed down it; the
place was dead level. They halted at some thirty yards' interval,
waiting. Then Prosper gave a shout--"Bide the time!" "Entra per
me!" came as a sombre echo; and the two spurred horses flung
forward at each other.
Each spear went true. Prosper got his into the centre of Galors'
shield, and it splintered at the guard. Galors' hit fair; but Prosper
used his trick of dropping at the impact, so that the spear glanced
off over his shoulder. Galors recovered it and his seat together. It
would seem that Prosper had taught him some civility by this, for he
threw his lance away as soon as the horses were free of each other.
Both drew their swords. Then followed a bout of wheeling and darting
in, at which Prosper had clear advantage as the lighter horseman on
the handier horse. Galors' strength was in downright carving;
Prosper's in his wrist-play and lightning recovery. He, moreover, was
cool, Galors hot. At this work he got home thrice to the other's once,
but that once was for a memory, starred the shoulder-piece and bit to
the bone. Left arm luckily. Prosper made a feint at a light canter,
spurred when he was up with his man, and, as his horse plunged, got
down a back-stroke, which sent Galors' weapon flying from his hand. He
turned sharply and reined up. Galors dismounted slowly, picked up his
sword, and went to mount again. He blundered it twice, shook the blood
out of his eyes, tried again, but lurched heavily and dropped. He only
saved himself by the saddle. Prosper guessed him more breathed than
blooded.
"Galors," said he, "we have done well enough for the turn. Rest, and
let me rest."
"As you will," said Galors thickly.
The two men sat facing each other on either side of the way. Galors
unlaced his helm and leaned on his elbows, taking long breaths.
Prosper unlaced his; and then followed a lesson to Isoult in warfare,
as he understood it. The girl had run down the hill-side to the brook,
so soon as she saw they must give over. She now came back, bearing
between her hands a broad leaf filled with water. This she brought to
her lord. Prosper smiled to her.