Then both champions, in token that they were ready for the combat, bowed to Gabrielle so respectfully, that their long waving plumes almost touched the earth;--thereafter they both sat upright, firmly laying their lances in the rest. At length Gabrielle gave the signal for onset, by throwing up a white handkerchief;--the trumpets sounded, and the two knights rushed against each other with such velocity, that, contrary to what usually happens, one heard the crashing of their broken lances and loud ringing of their armour in the shock, even before his eyes could distinguish their meeting. The combatants passed one another without losing their seats, and now rode their horses up and down, on exchanged sides of the ring, each one, as it seemed, wondering to perceive that his opponent was still in the saddle. “More lances!” cried Archimbald, and the squires immediately offered on both sides a selection among many ponderous weapons. When they had weighed them, and made their choice respectively, “Knight of Montfaucon,” said Archimbald, “two more encounters with the lance, this and another, will that suffice? And if the cause be not then decided, we shall have recourse to the sword.” “I am here as a guest,” said Folko, “and must follow whatever example is set by my noble entertainer.” The trumpets sounded, and the knights again flew together; this time, however, with such violence, that both horses were thrown back, with their hind-legs doubled under them, but being violently spurred, rose again directly, and passed across into their places. Sir Folko’s lance was broken into shivers against his adversary’s coat of mail, while the Count’s spear was merely snapped, and he held one half still in his hand. On both sides, therefore, there was a great shouting and exultation, for the followers of Waldeck looked on the half weapon still wielded as a favourable omen, while those of Montfaucon insisted that their master must have played his part in a far more knightly and effectual manner in this encounter.