'Twas a fair night, and the full moon gave light as of the day. Mile after mile went by and all was well, but he came to an open level of broad highway whereon much could be seen afar.
"A man-at-arms?" said Richard. "He faceth this way. I may not let him stop me. I will close my visor and be ready for what may come."
He shut his helmet tightly and lowered his lance, loosening also the battle-axe at his saddle bow. He had need, for the strange man-at-arms uttered no warning, but dashed suddenly forward with lance in rest. 'Twas but the fortune of tourney, for the foeman rode well and he was large. His lance point glanced from the helmet of the young messenger, while Richard smote him full upon the breast.
Splintered to the hand was the lance, but the stranger reeled in the saddle, and before he could recover himself Richard had wheeled, axe in hand.
"In the king's name!" he shouted, "what doest thou with the king's messenger?"
Down came the battle-axe, striking the bridle arm of the stranger, so that while he drew his sword with his right hand he could not manage his horse.
"Down with thee, thou cub of Wartmont!" roared the stranger angrily. "I will take thy messages. Ha!"
'Twas a good blow, but it stopped upon the shield of the Neville, while once more the axe fell heavily with the curvet of Richard's horse. Sore wounded upon one thigh was now the man-at-arms, and his steed plunged viciously to one side.
"I will have thee!" he shouted, but his sword swept vainly through the air, while Richard charged again.
"Thy helm this time!" he muttered as his axe came down.
Cloven through was the steel headpiece, and the man-at-arms let fall his sword.
"Neville, I yield me!" he cried out. "Smite not again."
"That ask thou not, if thou art wise," responded the stranger. "For thee to know my name were thy death-warrant. Thou hast perils enough. Ride on, and tell the king that an old man-at-arms who could grind thee to powder hath been beaten by a lad. I have fought in twenty pitched fields, and now I must even ride home to save my broken head."
"I will harm thee not," said Richard, "but I fear thee not. Thy head were worth but little----"
"Trust me, it is safe," said the stranger. "The king will leave it where it is. I shall see thee again some day. Thou wilt be a good lance, but carry thou not too many king's errands. Fare thee well!"