The next day all London poured out to the scene of the sports, and the greatest admiration and wonder were expressed at the castle, which had risen, as if by magic, in the night. It was built at one end of the lists, which had been purposely placed in a hollow, so that a great number of people besides those in the pavilions could obtain a view from the surrounding slopes. The castle was substantially built of heavy timber painted gray, and looked at a little distance as if constructed of stone. A flag floated from the central tower, and the building looked so formidable that the general opinion was freely expressed that the task of the assailants, whoever they might be--for at present this was unknown--was quite impossible. At ten o'clock the king and his court arrived. After they had taken their places the two bands, headed by their leaders, advanced from the lower end of the lists, and drew up in front of the royal pavilion. The leaders took their places in front. Behind them stood ten chosen followers, all of whom, as well as their chiefs, were encased in full armour. Behind, on one side, were 100 apprentices, on the other 100 esquires, all attired as men-at-arms. The court party were led by Clarence Aylmer, son of the Earl of Pembroke. His companions were all young men of noble family, aspirants for the order of knighthood. They were, for the most part, somewhat older than the apprentices, but as the latter consisted chiefly of young men nearly out of their term the difference was not great. Walter's armour was a suit which the armourer had constructed a year previously for a young knight who had died before the armour could be delivered. Walter had wondered more than once why Geoffrey did not endeavour to sell it elsewhere, for, although not so decorated and inlaid as many of the suits of Milan armour, it was constructed of the finest steel, and the armourer had bestowed special care upon its manufacture, as the young knight's father had long been one of his best customers. Early that morning Geoffrey had brought it to his room and had told him to wear it instead of that lent by the city. “But I fear it will get injured,” Walter had urged. “I shall not spare myself, you know, Geoffrey, and the blows will be hard ones. “The more need for good armour, Walter. These city suits are made for show rather than use. You may be sure that young Pembroke and his band will fight their hardest rather than suffer defeat at the hands of those whom they consider a band of city varlets.” Before issuing from the tent where he and his companions had put on their mail Walter carefully fastened in the front of his helmet a tiny gold bracelet. Upon taking their places before the pavilion the king ordered the two leaders to advance, and addressed them and the multitude in the following words: