"So be it," said Blunt. "Then let us go at it straightway in the armory
yonder, for they be at dinner in the Great Hall, and just now there
be'st no one by to stay us."

"Thou shalt not fight him, Myles!" burst out Gascoyne. "He will murther
thee! Thou shalt not fight him, I say!"

Myles turned away without answering him.

"What is to do?" called one of those who were still looking out of the
windows as the crowd of boys passed beneath.

"Blunt and Falworth are going to fight it out hand to hand in the
armory," answered one of the bachelors, looking up.

The brawling of the squires was a jest to all the adjoining part of the
house. So the heads were withdrawn again, some laughing at the "sparring
of the cockerels."

But it was no jesting matter to poor Myles.



CHAPTER 16

I have no intention to describe the fight between Myles Falworth and
Walter Blunt. Fisticuffs of nowadays are brutal and debasing enough, but
a fight with a sharp-edged broadsword was not only brutal and debasing,
but cruel and bloody as well.