“Did, wench—­did?” quoth the Duke, gently.  “Now when spake I with witch ere this?  ’Tis true there was a lady—­something of thy seeming—­who, to gain much, promised much, and—­achieved me nothing.  So now do I know thee far one Mellent, a notable witch, that shall this day instead of ducal crown, wear crown of flame.  Alack!—­and so, farewell!”

Thus speaking, my lord Duke rode on up the lists, where stood certain noble lords to hold his stirrup and aid him to earth; so mounted he to his place ’neath broidered canopy, and many a fair cheek blanched, and many a stout knight faltered in his speech, beholding that slow-creeping, stealthy smile and the twitch of those thin nostrils.

Now once again the trumpet blew, and a herald stepped forth: 

“God save ye, lord Duke,” he cried, “ye noble lords and ladies fair—­ good people all, God save ye.  Know that before you here assembled, hath been brought one Mellent—­that hath been denounced a notable witch and sorceress, who, by her fiendish arts and by the aid of demons foul and damned, doth seek the hurt of our lord the Duke, whom God and the saints defend.  Forasmuch as this witch, yclept Mellent, did, by her unhallowed spells and magic, compass and bring about the escape from close duress of one Beltane, a notable outlaw, malefactor and enemy to our lord the Duke; and whereas she did also by aid of charms, incantations and the like devilish practices, contrive the sack, burning and total destruction of my lord Duke’s good and fair castle of Garthlaxton upon the March.  Now therefore it is adjudged that she be taken and her body burned to ashes here before you.  All of which charges have been set forth and sworn to by this right noble lord and gallant knight Sir Gilles of Brandonmere—­behold him here in person.”

Hereupon, while the trumpets brayed a flourish and fanfare, forth rode Sir Gilles upon a mighty charger, a grim and warlike figure in his shining mail and blazoned surcoat, his ponderous, crested war-helm closed, his long shield covering him from shoulder to stirrup, and his lance-point twinkling on high.

Then spake again the herald loud and clear:  “Good people all, behold Sir Gilles of Brandonmere, who cometh here before you prepared to maintain the truth and justice of the charges he hath made—­unto the death, ’gainst any man soever, on horse or on foot, with lance, battle-axe or sword.  Now if there be any here do know this witch Mellent for innocent, if there be any here dare adventure his body for her innocence and run the peril of mortal combat with Sir Gilles, let him now stand forth.”

And immediately the trumpets sounded a challenge.  Thereafter the herald paced slowly round the lists, and behind him rode Sir Gilles, his blazon of the three stooping falcons plain for all men to see, on gleaming shield and surcoat.