After having satisfied himself with examining the dagger, he turned again to the squire:
"And now," said he, "let me see your sword."
"No," said the squire, "this is the king's sword, and it is not going into the hands of such a lowborn fellow as you. And, moreover," he added, after pausing a moment and looking at Walter with an expression of defiance, "if you and I had met somewhere alone, you would not have dared to talk as you have done, not for a heap of gold as high as this church."
There was a famous church, called the Church of St. Bartholomew, near the place where the king and his party had halted.
"By the powers," said Walter, "I will not eat this day before I have your head."
Seeing that a quarrel was impending, the mayor of London and a dozen horsemen rode up and surrounded Walter and the squire.
"Scoundrel!" said the mayor, "how dare you utter such threats as those?"
"What business is that of yours?" said Walter, turning fiercely toward the mayor. "What have you to do with it?"
"Seize him!" said the king; for the king himself was now beginning to lose his patience.
Walter is at last assaulted and killed.