Yolanda was prone to coax Max not to fight, and her fear showed itself in every look and gesture.  Her words, of course, could not have turned him, but her fears might have undermined his self-confidence.  So I pointed out to her the help he would get from encouragement, and the possible hurt he would take were her fears to infect him.  After my admonition, her efforts to be cheerful and confident almost brought tears to my eyes.  She would sing, but her song was joyless.  She would banter Max and would run imaginary courses with him, taking the part of Calli, and always falling dead at Max’s feet; but the moment of relaxation brought a haunting, terrified expression to her eyes.  The corners of her sweet mouth would droop, effacing the cluster of dimples that played about her lips, and the fair, childish face, usually so joyful, wore the mask of grief.  For the first time in her life real happiness had come, not within her grasp, but within sight; and this combat might snatch it from her.

Once when I was helping Max to buckle on his armor for a bout at practice, he said:—­

“Yolanda seems to treat this battle as a jest.  She laughs and banters me as if it were to be a justing bout.  I wonder if she really has a heart?”

“Max, I am surprised at your dulness,” I said.  “Do you not see her manner is assumed, though her fear is small because of her great faith in your prowess?”

“I’ll try to deserve her faith,” answered Max.

* * * * *

When at last the day arrived, Max was in prime condition.  At the inn we carefully adjusted the armor and fitted it on him.  One of our squires led the charger, carefully trapped, to the lists, which had been built in an open field outside the town, west of the castle.

Max and I, accompanied by Hymbercourt and two other friends, rode down to Castleman’s, and Max entered the house for a few minutes.  Yolanda had told him that she would not be at the lists, and Max felt that it were better so.

Twonette and her father had gone to the lists when we reached the House under the Wall, but Yolanda and Frau Kate were awaiting us.  There was a brief greeting and a hurried parting—­tearful on Yolanda’s part.  Then we rode around to the Postern and entered the courtyard of the castle.  Crossing the courtyard, we passed out through the great gate at the keep, and soon stood demanding admission to the lists.

The course was laid off north and south, the sun being in the southwest.  The hour of battle was fixed at four o’clock, and the combat was to continue till sundown, if neither champion fell before that time.  The pavilion for the duke and the other spectators was built at the west side of the false lists—­a strip of ground ten feet wide, extending entirely around the true lists, but separated from it by a barrier or railing three feet high.