But the apprentice was not to be thus advised; and could not even be restrained by the entreaties of Gillian, who was sadly apprehensive that some mischief would befall him.  So conspicuous did he make himself in the disturbance, that at last Sir Giles rode towards him, and singling him out, seized him with his gauntleted hand, and dragged him from the edge of the fountain.  Dick struggled manfully to get free, but he was in a grasp of iron, and all his efforts at releasing himself were ineffectual.  He called on those near him to rescue him, but they shrank from the attempt.  Poor Gillian was dreadfully alarmed.  She thought her lover was about to be sacrificed to Sir Giles’s resentment on the spot; and, falling on her knees, she piteously besought him to spare his life.

“For shame, Gillian,” cried Dick; “do not demean yourself thus.  The caitiff knight dares not harm me for his life; and if he should maltreat me, I shall be well avenged by my patron, Sir Jocelyn Mounchensey.  I would my voice might reach him—­I should not long be kept here.  To the rescue!  Sir Jocelyn! to the rescue!” And he shouted forth the young knight’s name at the top of his voice.

“Who calls me?” demanded Mounchensey, pressing through the throng in the direction of the outcries.

“I, your humble follower, Dick Taverner,” roared the apprentice; “I am in the clutches of the devil, and I pray you release me.”

“Ha! what is this?” cried Sir Jocelyn.  “Set him free, at once, Sir Giles, I command you.”

“What, if I refuse?” rejoined the other.

“Then I will instantly enforce compliance,” thundered Mounchensey.

“If I release him it is because I must defend myself and punish your insolence,” cried Sir Giles.  And as he spoke, he thrust back the apprentice with such force that he would have fallen to the ground if he had not dropped into the arms of his kneeling mistress.

“Now, Sir Jocelyn,” continued Sir Giles, fiercely; “you shall answer for this interference”—­

“Hold!” interposed the authoritative voice of Prince Charles; “we must have no unseemly brawls here.  To your places at once in the procession, Sir Knights.  We are about to set forward to the tilt-yard.”

With this, he gave the word to move on, and all further sound of disturbance was drowned by the trampling of steeds and the bruit of the kettle-drums, cornets, and trumpets.

Nowise disheartened by what had occurred, Dick Taverner would have followed with the stream, and carried his mistress and her grandsire along with him; but the former had been so much terrified by what had occurred, that dreading lest her lover’s imprudence should get him into further scrapes, she positively refused to proceed any further.

“I have seen quite enough,” she cried; “and if you have any love for me, Dick, you will take me away, and not expose yourself to further risk.  If you are indeed bent on going on, I shall return with my grandsire.”