Remounting quickly as these words were said, he then good Augier's daughter lifted up and placed upon his horse; for he resolved she should not quit his sight until he put her in her father's arms: this done he rode apace towards the spot where lay the wounded knight.
CHAPTER VIII. TAULAT DE RUGUMON.
Never did help come more in time of need. Returned that very morn, Taulat had bound his prisoner to a stake; and four stout ploughmen, each armed with a strap, already raised their brawny arms to strike and ope the closed wounds. But as Jaufry came, they stayed their hand to gaze awhile at him; nor less surprised than they, Taulat, who on the castle-terrace stood, descended in hot haste and thus accosted Jaufry: “Sir knight, I fain would learn what madness or what pride hath thus conducted thee into my lands. Dismount and doff thine arms, for thou art prisoner henceforth for ay.”
“My lord,” the knight replied, “methinks you practise an unseemly haste. Give me, I beg, the time to tell my errand. I come to speak in favour of the knight your knaves were going to strike; and I entreat you, for the sake of me, to grant unto him grace.”
“May Heaven help me!” Taulat answered him, “but sure thou art distraught: such words deserve the rope,—a peasant's death.”
“'Twould be a grievous wrong, my lord, the words being good and wise; again I do repeat them, praying grace for yonder knight, who seven long years hath groaned.”
“Go, churl; too long I've listed; go and disarm thyself, if thou wilt live, and to my squires give up the girl with thee.”
“If she's dishonoured and I put to shame, this arm, by Heaven, must indeed be weak.”