"Beat thee! no, on my honour!" replied de Coucy; and the mad juggler crept up to him on all-fours.--"Tell me, Gallon," continued the knight, "is what you said to Hugo true about Jodelle?"
"The good king Christopher had a cat!" replied Gallon. "You said you would not beat me, Coucy; but your eyes look very like as if your fist itched to give the lie to your honour."
"Nay, nay. Gallon," said De Coucy, striving by gentleness to get a moment of serious reason from him. "My own life--the safety of the camp--of prince Arthur--of our whole party, may depend upon your answer. I have heard you say that you are a Christian man, and kept your faith, even while a slave amongst the Saracens; now answer me--Do you know for certain that Jodelle has been absent, as you told your friend Hugo? Speak the truth, upon your soul!"
"Not upon my soul!--not upon my soul!" cried Gallon. "As to my having a soul, that is all a matter of taste and uncertainty; but what I said was true, upon my nose, which no one will deny--Turk or Christian, fool or philosopher. On my nose, it was true, Coucy--on my nose."
"By Heaven! if this prove false, I will cut it off!" cried the knight, frowning on him.
"Do so, do so! beau sire," replied Gallon, grinning; "and when you have got it, God give you grace to wear it!"
"Now, Hugo de Barre!" cried the knight, as his squire returned with a quick pace.
"As I hope for salvation, sir Guy," cried Hugo, "there are not ten of the cotereaux in the huts! Those that are there are sleeping quietly enough, but all the rest are gone!"
"Lord! what a flash!" cried Gallon, as the lightning gleamed round about them, playing on the armour of De Coucy and his squire.
"Ha, Hugo! did you see nothing in that valley?" exclaimed the knight.