"No Welshman am I!" cried Howel the servant of Richard. "I am a man of Irchenfield—as good an Englishman as any of you here—and a better Englishman, too, than ye clumsy boors that think yourselves noblemen! When the King of the English marches with his army into Wales, we men of Irchenfield do go the foremost, that we may be the first to deal death, and——"
"Do they dance in Irchenfield?" piped the maltman's son, as he shambled out of the crowd and swiftly inserted a furry object between the collar of Howel's jerkin and the back of his neck.
"We shall soon see. Oh, merrily, right merrily—merrier and higher than in all Herefordshire else! On, on, brave Welshman! None here can hope to beat thee!"
Loud was the spectators' laughter as the victim bounced up and down, shaking and tossing his limbs, and twisting his head and his body. When Richard had succeeded in dragging the weasel from out of his serving-man's garments, Howel rushed forward, bent on reprisal. Ednoth, the primary cause of the trouble, happened to be the person nearest: in a second Howel had him by the throat, and his short knife gleamed bare.
Half a dozen bystanders instantly joined in the fray, most of them for the purpose of overwhelming the impudent Welshman of Irchenfield: in the midst of the turbulent knot were Ulwin, tugging at Ednoth's shoulders, and Richard, who held on to Howel by the arms and so compelled him to desist from stabbing at the Englishman.
"Peace, thou fool!" cried Richard. "Leave be, now, Howel my man! I will not be embroiled for idle pride of thine. God's death! put up thy dagger!"
Sullenly but promptly, Howel allowed his master to lead him out of the clutches of his assailants.
"Peace, I beg of you, good men," the Norman continued. "We do but hinder the many that care not for our meaning. See, yon lady would come by!"
The crowd had borne Alftrude away from her brother-in-law's side during the scuffle: she stood by the booth of a seller of gilded gingerbread, the nearest stall to the thanes' elmtree, a coin in one hand and two shining half-moons of cake in the other. Distaste and hesitancy were in the look she cast upon the brawlers.
"Lady, fear not," said Richard. "If ye would but lean upon my arm——"