"Alas, Grand Master!" answered Conrade, "all augurs ill for this affair. The strange discovery by the instinct of a dog, the revival of this Scottish knight, who comes into the lists like a spectre,--all betokens evil." "Pshaw!" said the Templar, "I have seen thee bend thy lance boldly against him in sport, and with equal chance of success. Think thou art but in a tournament, and who bears him better in the tilt-yard than thou?--Come, squires and armorers, your master must be accoutred for the field." The attendants entered accordingly, and began to arm the Marquis. "What morning is without?" said Conrade. "The sun rises dimly," answered a squire. "Thou seest, Grand Master," said Conrade, "naught smiles on us." "Thou wilt fight the more coolly, my son," answered the Templar. "Thank Heaven that hath tempered the sun of Palestine to suit thine occasion." Thus jested the Grand Master; but his jests had lost their influence on the harassed mind of the Marquis, and, notwithstanding his attempts to seem gay, his gloom communicated itself to the Templar. "This craven," he thought, "will lose the day in pure faintness and cowardice of heart, which he calls tender conscience. I, whom visions and auguries shake not--who am firm in my purpose as the living rock--I should have fought the combat myself.--Would to God the Scot may strike him dead on the spot; it were next best to his winning the victory. But, come what will, he must have no other confessor than myself. Our sins are too much in common, and he might confess my share with his own." While these thoughts passed through his mind, he continued to assist the Marquis in arming, but it was in silence. The hour at length arrived, the trumpets sounded, the knights rode into the lists armed at all points, and mounted like men who were to do battle for a kingdom's honor. They wore their visors up, and, riding around the lists three times, showed themselves to the spectators. Both were goodly persons, and both had noble countenances. But there was an air of manly confidence on the brow of the Scot, a radiancy of hope, which amounted even to cheerfulness, while, although pride and effort had recalled much of Conrade's natural courage, there lowered still on his brow a cloud of ominous despondence. Even his steed seemed to tread less lightly and blithely to the trumpet-sound than the noble Arab which was bestrode by Sir Kenneth; and the _spruch-sprecher_ shook his head while he observed, that while the challenger rode around the lists in the course of the sun--that is, from right to left--the defender made the same circuit _widder-sins_--that is, from left to right--which is in most countries held ominous.