"Peter," he said, "I want thee now to keep close watch to see who doth visit Sir Gervaise de Maupas. I begin to feel once more that he is at the bottom of the mischief; and it hath occurred to me that if his emissaries have waylaid Sir John they will, if they have not done so already, come to him to report the result of their vile plot. Keep watch, then, and see who the men are, and if thou canst do so quietly, call Matthew and scruple not to seize them on some pretext or another. Pick a quarrel with them--anything, so long as ye lay hands on them and keep them till I come." Peter nodded, as though in entire approval, and limped off upon his errand, and Edgar turned to find Arthur Pomeroy, mounted and armed, waiting for him with every sign of impatience a pace or two away. "So this is the way thou dost spend the precious moments--gibbering with stableboys and camp followers, Edgar Wintour," he cried in a voice of disgust. "’Tis but twenty minutes short of noon, and thou not in the saddle and not a piece of thine armour girded on. Hast gone daft, man, or forgotten that the onset sounds at noon?" "I have been busy, Arthur, and could wish that thou wouldst find some other to take my place. Let the best of those who were tried and passed over take the lance in my stead--each of them was well worthy to represent our squirehood to-day." "Tush, Edgar, talk not such nonsense! Rather would I hold back our whole band until thou wert ready, though ’twere an hour. Get on thine armour without more ado. Where is thy boy?" "I have sent him upon an errand of great import to me. Give me a hand and I will soon be ready." With an angry snort Arthur set spurs to his horse and galloped away through the camp like a whirlwind. In half a minute he was back, and two lads following at top speed proclaimed that he had not been idle. "Come hither, varlets, and gird on this armour. Quickly, now, unless ye wish the Frenchmen to get the better of us." Rapidly the pieces of armour were strapped and buckled on until Edgar stood complete, a wall of shining steel. "Where is thy gage?" "I have none." "What? Hast thou no damsel to watch for thine entry into the lists?" "Nay." Arthur shrugged his shoulders in perplexity. "Well, every man to his taste. Where is now thy horse? Where dost stable it?" "Straight along the lines a furlong. Let the youths bring the gear, and for the nonce I will walk to it." It was still five minutes short of noon when Edgar mounted and, closely shepherded by Arthur Pomeroy, who seemed to fear he might yet escape, rode off to the competitors’ enclosure adjoining the lists.