"No, nor he don’t mean to do Master Lisle any harm. Look how wide he rode, and how lightly he smote him," said Humphrey. Bowerman was in a furious passion. "What do they all mean by letting that upstart have it all his own way? Why, that ’Rusty one’ could knock him all to bits an he liked. What is it that lets him from doing it? It is a vile plot to win favour." But he had no one to listen to him now, for Newenhall, disgusted at his treatment, had moved away. Ralph rode his three courses manfully with the unknown knight. However hard he strove to unseat his antagonist, it was quite clear that "the Rusty one," as the mob called him, did not mean to tilt in earnest with Ralph. This evident partiality for the young favourite of the crowd evoked a feeling of sympathy for the unknown knight. "If he’s rusty, I can see he’s trusty," said Master Paxhulle, attempting a feeble joke. "An they didn’t make your outside very bright, you’ve got a good heart inside, I can see," said Mistress Bremeskete approvingly. Fortune seemed now to smile on the assailants, for in the next course Sir Alain de Kervignac was unhorsed by the superior weight and freshness of Master Meaux. His fall was greeted by loud shouts of applause, mingled with consoling remarks, such as "There’s no shame to you, Master Breton, you’ve done right manfully; a horse and man can’t go on for ever. Never did knight do better than you’ve done." To all which, Sir Alain, who had mounted his horse again, bowed his acknowledgments. Master Meaux and Ralph Lisle were now left to tilt against the new comer. "Let Master Meaux tackle him," shouted the crowd. "You’ve done enough, Master Lisle." After a little consultation, it was agreed that the unknown knight should encounter Master Meaux. The interest again became very intense. "’Twill be a tough bout this time, but I’d lay odds on Master Meaux." "I dunno, Master Tom, ’tis a big ’oss the other rides, and he’s a good lance. Ah! he’s off. Body o’ me, what a crash!" There was a universal shout from the spectators, of amazement and disappointment. "The Rusty Knight," as he was ignominiously called, had entirely changed his tactics, riding closely along the barrier, and urging his large horse to its utmost speed. With helm well down behind his shield, and his body bent forward, he struck Master Meaux a fierce blow with his powerful lance; there was no resisting the vigour of that thrust, and the weight of horse and man propelling it. The blow was aimed at the right shoulder, and blunt as the spear-point was, it broke through the steel pauldron, or shoulder-piece, and, driving in the gusset of chain mail, inflicted a severe wound, carrying the unfortunate Master Meaux over the saddle backwards.