Thrice it flashed and fell, and each time fell a man, and the boldest of the English hung back for a moment from the terror of an arm that seemed to carry certain death. Thick and fast rattled the arrows on his armour, but it was the work of a cunning armourer of Milan, and even the cloth-yard shafts of Old England smote it in vain.
All at once a commanding voice was heard above the din of the fray—
“Leave him to me, lads; he is a good knight, and I would fain try his mettle myself, body to body.”
A tall, fine-looking man of middle age pressed his horse through the throng of English, who made way for him respectfully, for he was no other than the commander of the besieging army.
“Sir Knight,” said he to the black warrior, “it were shame to let so good a champion be overborne by odds. I will meet thee with equal arms, man to man, and if I overcome thee, thou shalt yield to my mercy, but if thou hast the better, thou shalt pass free, under the knightly pledge of Sir Nicholas Dagworth. Art thou agreed?”
In our day it would greatly amaze every one to see two generals fight a duel on their own account in the midst of a battle, while their men looked on; but in that age such a thing was an everyday matter.
“Most willingly do I agree, good Sir Nicholas,” said the unknown, courteously; “and if it be my hap to be overthrown, I grudge thee not what small fame may be won by vanquishing Bertrand du Guesclin.”
“Du Guesclin!” echoed Dagworth, as a murmur of mingled wonder and admiration buzzed along the English ranks. “Then am I more highly favoured than I weened. I pray you of your courtesy, fair sir, to let me touch that victorious hand in friendship ere we fall to.”
And the two men joined hands in a warm, brotherly clasp, as a fitting preface to doing their best to cut each other’s throats!
Just then the city gate (through which Huon and the warlike jester had just passed) poured forth a gallant band of horsemen, led by De Kerimel himself. But when the rescuers saw what was going on, they drew rein at once, and looked on in silence, for one of the strictest rules of that age was never to interfere with a fair fight.