To this Buckingham haughtily replied, that he at once accepted the Ambassador’s challenge; but in regard to the terms of the wager, they must be somewhat modified, as he could not accept them as proposed; but he was willing to hazard on the result of the encounter all the gems, with which at the moment his habiliments were covered, against the single diamond clasp worn by De Gondomar; and if the offer suited his Excellency, he had nothing to do but appoint the day, and bring forward the man.

De Gondomar replied, that nothing could please him better than the Marquis’s modification of the wager, and the proposal was quite consistent with the acknowledged magnificence of his Lordship’s notions; yet he begged to make one further alteration, which was, that in the event of the knight he should nominate being adjudged by his Majesty to be the best jouster, the rich prize might be delivered to him.

Buckingham assented, and the terms of the wager being now fully settled, it only remained to fix the day for the trial, and this was referred to the King, who appointed the following Thursday—­thus allowing, as the banquet took place on a Friday, nearly a week for preparation.

James, also, good-naturedly complied with the Ambassador’s request, and agreed to act as judge on the occasion; and he laughingly remarked to Buckingham—­“Ye are demented, Steenie, to risk a’ those precious stanes with which ye are bedecked on the skill with which ye can yield a frail lance.  We may say unto you now in the words of the poet—­

  ‘Pendebant ter ti gemmata monilia collo;’

but wha shall say frae whose round throat those gemmed collars and glittering ouches will hang a week hence, if ye be worsted?  Think of that, my dear dog.”

“Your Majesty need be under no apprehension,” replied Buckingham.  “I shall win and wear his Excellency’s diamond clasp.  And now, perhaps, the Count will make us acquainted with the name and title of my puissant adversary, on whose address he so much relies.  Our relative chances of success will then be more apparent.  If, however, any motives for secrecy exist, I will not press the inquiry, but leave the disclosure to a more convenient season.”

“Nunc est narrandi tempus,” rejoined the King.  “No time like the present.  We are anxious to ken wha the hero may be.”

“I will not keep your Majesty a moment in suspense,” said De Gondomar.  “The young knight whom I design to select as the Marquis’s opponent, and whom I am sure will feel grateful for having such means of honourable distinction afforded him, is present at the banquet.”

“Here!” exclaimed James, looking round.  “To whom do you refer, Count?  It cannot be Sir Gilbert Gerrard, or Sir Henry Rich; for—­without saying aught in disparagement of their prowess—­neither of them is a match for Buckingham!  Ah! save us!  We hae it.  Ye mean Sir Jocelyn Mounchensey.”

And as the Ambassador acknowledged that his Majesty was right, all eyes were turned towards the young knight, who, though as much surprised as any one else, could not help feeling greatly elated.