Deeply mortified and not a little angry, Edgar bowed low, retired from the stand, and strode wrathfully back to his tent. His way took him not far from Sir Gervaise’s quarters, and as he went it occurred to him that he might pass by and see what he could of Peter. As he drew near he saw that Sir Gervaise stood at the door already half-armed, for the hour of his encounter approached apace; and Edgar looked steadily at him to discern, if possible, some sign of consciousness of villainy in his strongly-marked features. Their eyes met, and Sir Gervaise beckoned him to approach. "See that thy master is ready and well equipped," he said, with a smile that maddened Edgar, "for I will humble his proud spirit this day--mark well my words." Gulping back the torrent of speech that rushed to his lips, Edgar turned and hurried on his way. In the second that he had met Sir Gervaise eye to eye, a half-formed idea had hardened and tempered into a firm resolve. Sir John’s life should be saved and Sir John’s honour should not be lost. Peter was awaiting him at his tent, his face aflame with eagerness and excitement. "Sir," he cried breathlessly, "one of the men we suspected rode in from the country but a half-hour agone and had speech with Sir Gervaise. I lay down at the tent door as though sleeping in the sun, but could hear naught. When the man came out, however, he was clinking money in his hand and smiling." "Didst follow him?" "I did; and I have learned both his name and his haunts." "Good! Say no more now, Peter, but call Matthew, for other and starker work lieth before us." In a moment Matthew appeared. "Saddle Sir John’s best charger, ’Furore’, and fetch it hither," cried Edgar. "Then bring out its armour and trappings, and make it ready for the lists." "Ha," cried Matthew joyously, "then thou hast news of Sir John!" and he hurried off to do the esquire’s bidding. "Now, Peter," cried Edgar, flinging off his outer garments, "aid me to don Sir John’s armour--quickly, lad, on thy life!" "But Sir John----" "_I_ am Sir John this day. See thou sayest no more to anyone save Matthew. Sir John’s honour must be saved, and saved it shall be if my utmost efforts can compass it. With vizor down, who shall know that the well-known horse and coat-armour hold not the knight, and that the shield that beareth his blazonings is borne by another?" Speechless with amazement, Peter strapped and buckled with might and main, and Edgar was almost ready when Matthew entered for the horse’s trappings. When he saw who it was that was donning Sir John’s armour, he gave a gasp of astonishment. Then gathering from Edgar’s set face the full significance of the proceeding, his own took on a grim smile as, without a word, he seized the horse’s gear and hurried from the tent. "Wilt take thine own weapons?" enquired Peter presently.