He obeyed, and stood calmly.
The leader continued, "Thou art doubtless but lately from the City, of abhorred name. Thou art but little acquainted with the usages of life. Do not speak! I know 'tis true."
He paused for a while, then went on with ruminative authority.
"Know that thou hast come into the hands of the Knights of Eld," he said. "As our name implies, and indeed our visible delimitations proclaim, we are no cut-throats, or vulgar brawlers. Thou art safe here.
"But thou art not one of us. Though thou art healthy and strong, and might well prove a formidable adversary, thou takest no delight in combat. Do I speak sooth? Proclaim!"
He proclaimed that it was sooth indeed; with the silent reservation that, if the combat were sufficiently noble, and profound, and really, fundamentally necessary—but his thoughts were cut short.
"Then thou hast no place here, unless perchance thou comest for succour, or for sanctuary."
His answer being negative, the leader continued:
"Know that our life is combat. There be many bands, against whom we strive. We have made good escape from the emasculate life of yon City, and we have vowed not to let the spirit of gentle manhood perish. The elements strive together, and yet the strife is co-operative: and so should it be with men.