The wide ring of men saw the signs made by the burly figure above, and they all wrapped their cloaks round their left arms, and then drew their swords.
“Then they do mean to fight,” cried Mark excitedly.
“Yes, but they don’t come on. I say: you’re not going to let them take you prisoner, are you?”
“I’m not going to run away,” said Mark sturdily.
“But they are six to one,” said Ralph.
“Yes, if you stand still and look on. If you won’t let them take you, they’ll only be three to one.”
“I’m going to make a dash for it,” said Ralph, setting his teeth hard, for his wound smarted a good deal, and there was a peculiar warm feeling as of something trickling down his sleeve.
“What, run away?”
“Who said I was going to run away?” cried Ralph. “Look here: in war two kings who hate one another often join together against an enemy.”
“Of course,” said Mark.