Lord Woodville mounted the moment he saw the new-comers approaching, and rode slowly forward to meet them, at the same time bringing his lance round, and holding it on his hip in readiness for use. Ralph having no orders, thought it best to imitate his chief, and holding his lance prepared for instant action, he followed the Captain of the Wight. When the two little groups had approached within speaking distance, Lord Woodville reined up, and lowered his lance in courteous salute to the knight opposite him--a courtesy the latter returned with much formality. Ralph noticed that the man-at-arms, who rode a little behind his chief, reined up his horse out of hearing of Lord Woodville, and appeared to be giving some directions to the two foot men, who seemed well-armed, sturdy knaves. He determined to keep a close watch on the movements of these latter, especially as he thought he recognised them as the same men who had attended on the unknown knight, and one of whom seemed intimate with Bowerman. *CHAPTER XXI.* *OF THE COMBAT *_*À OUTRANCE*_*.* After the Captain of the Wight and the stranger knight had gravely saluted each other, there was a pause. The silence was broken by Lord Woodville. "Sir Knight," he said, "you have challenged me to mortal combat. You have flung charges in my teeth that are false and foul. You have aspersed the name which you, of all men, ought most to reverence, and yet, rebel as you are, you have put yourself in my hands as Captain for the King. I come here as plain Edward Woodville, knight and simple gentleman. The Captain of the Wight has laid aside his authority to give the lie to your words, and to prove on your body the truth of his. But before we try the judgment of battle, for the sake of one who is utterly free from the vile taunts you have flung forth, I would fain tell you that as that moon floats pure and serene in yonder azure sky, so that name is as unsullied, and that life as chaste. If you are still fain to try the hazard of battle, maugre my solemn statement, here am I ready to meet you, as man to man, and may Heaven defend the right. Thou well knowest thou hast done to me the cruellest wrong one man can do to another on this earth. Thou hast blighted two lives, and thou wouldst defame them as well. If any man longed for vengeance, ’twere certes I who ought to pray for it. Yet, Heaven knoweth, I harbour no thoughts of revenge, and I would be well content that thou and I should never meet. Thou hast taken a bold step, and one that doeth credit to my knightly honour more than all thy base aspersions have done to assail it, by coming to my government, and putting thyself in my power, well knowing that for a private wrong no belted knight who deserved the name would use the power of his office to wreak vengeance on a personal foe by means of the authority given him by the King. But in sparing a fugitive