"Strike, I say!" said Sir James. "What stayest thou for? Art afeard?"

It was Myles's answer that set the seal of individuality upon him.
"Nay," said he, boldly, "I am not afeard. I fear not thee nor any man!"
So saying, he delivered the stroke at Sir James with might and main. It
was met with a jarring blow that made his wrist and arm tingle, and the
next instant he received a stroke upon the bascinet that caused his ears
to ring and the sparks to dance and fly before his eyes.

"Pardee!" said Sir James, grimly. "An I had had a mace in my hand, I
would have knocked thy cockerel brains out that time. Thou mayst take
that blow for answering me so pertly. And now we are quits. Now strike
me the stroke again an thou art not afeard."

Myles's eyes watered in spite of himself, and he shut the lids tight to
wink the dimness away. Nevertheless he spoke up undauntedly as before.
"Aye, marry, will I strike it again," said he; and this time he was
able to recover guard quickly enough to turn Sir James's blow with his
shield, instead of receiving it upon his head.

"So!" said Sir James. "Now mind thee of this, that when thou strikest
that lower cut at the legs, recover thyself more quickly. Now, then,
strike me it at the pel."

Gascoyne and other of the lads who were just then lying stretched out
upon the grass beneath, a tree at the edge of the open court where stood
the pels, were interested spectators of the whole scene. Not one of them
in their memory had heard Sir James so answered face to face as Myles
had answered him, and, after all, perhaps the lad himself would not
have done so had he been longer a resident in the squires' quarters at