"To fly like a coward?" said the other, with a German oath.
"I do not fight with every ignoble ruffian I may meet; there are some whom I would disdain to chastise, and thou, fellow, art one! Yet, if the hosteller would but bring me a good heavy whip, I would make you dance to a tune of your own."
"Sangdieu! do you know to whom you are speaking?" cried the other, whose rage completely sobered him.
"Some robbers or outlaws, I suppose."
"A robber—yes, for misfortune has made me so; an outlaw—yes, for tyrants made me so; but I am your equal, and perhaps superior, for all that!"
"Indeed! Then who the devil are you, that thus molest peaceful people on the open highway?"
"I am Ludwig, count of Endhoven!"
Gray started on hearing the name of the very personage against whom Maître Baudoin had so solemnly warned him; but, inspired with an emotion of pity for nobility fallen so low, he took his purse from his girdle, and said, "Rumour says you have been a soldier: I am one, and will share what I have with you; but first you must stand aside from between me and my horse, as I can brook no intimidation."
The other laughed scornfully, and said, "In the first place, messire, it was from being a soldier that Philip of Burgundy made me a thief, and changed my cote d'armes into a beggar's gabardine. In the second, I do not ask for that which I can take by force; in the third, I obey no man's orders—yours least of all, when horse and purse, and all you possess, are my lawful spoil."
As he spoke, he made a sudden rush forward, with the intention of tearing away the purse from Sir Patrick, who, quick as thought, sprang back, and received him right upon the point of his sword, with a force which made the iron corslet ring, and stretched its wearer on the earth.