The moon was bright, and as Marmion reached the elfin camp, halting, he fearlessly blew his bugle. An answer came, so faint and hollow, that it might have been an echo; but suddenly he saw a distinct form appear, a mounted champion. The sight of the unexpected foe made to tremble with horror him who never had feared knight or noble. His hand so shook, he could scarce couch spear aright. The combat began; the two horsemen ran their course; and in the third attack Marmion's steed could not resist the unearthly shock--he fell, and the flower of England's chivalry rolled in the dust. High over the head of the fallen foe, the supposed spectre shook his sword. Full on his face fell the moonlight, a face never to be mistaken. It was the wraith of Ralph de Wilton, who had been sent by Marmion to exile and to death. Thrice over his victim did the grim, ghast spectre shake his blade, but when Marmion, white with terror, prayed for life, the seeming vision dashed his sword into its sheath, sprang lightly to his saddle, and vanished as he came. The moon sank from sight, and the poor, shivering, wretched English knight lay groveling on the plain. Could it be his mortal enemy had left the grave to strike down a living foe, and to stare in derisive hatred from a raised visor? Whether dead or alive, the elfin foe had little reason to spare the life of so dastardly an enemy! Sweetly sleeping, or patiently listening, Eustace waited for the return of his knight, waited till he heard a horse coming, spurred to its utmost speed. The rider hastily threw the rein to his squire, but spoke not a word. In the dim light the youth plainly saw that the armor and the falcon crest on his lord's helmet were covered with clay, that the knees and sides of the noble charger were in sad plight. It was evident the beast and his rider had been overthrown. To broken and brief rest Eustace returned and never did he more gladly welcome the light of day. "Eustace did ne'er so blithely mark The first notes of the morning lark." CHAPTER IV. "The lark sang shrill, the cock he crew, And loudly Marmion's bugles blew, And with their light and lively call, Brought groom and yeoman to the stall." Light of heart they came, but soon their mood was changed. Complaint was heard on every side. One declared his armor had been used, another that his spear had been taken. Young Blount, Marmion's second squire, found his steed covered with foam, though the stable boy swore he had left the beautiful creature well groomed on the previous evening. While the impatient squire raged and fumed, old Hubert cried: "Ho, comrades, help! Bevis lies dying in his stall! To our lord this will bring sorrow indeed. Who will dare tell him of the horse he loved so well?"