The young man aimed a blow at his enemy's head, and the helmet fell back, cut through the middle, but the force of the blow had broken his sword in two; and the horse, lifted by his giant foe, reared, so that the rider, losing his balance, was thrown against the side of the rock, and fell senseless to the ground. At the same instant a shot was fired towards them from the top of the rock.
"Who fired there?" cried the giant, in a voice of thunder.
The bloodthirsty Wallachians would have rushed madly on their defenceless prey, had not the giant stood between him and them.
"Who fired on me?" he sternly exclaimed.
The Wallachians stood back in terror.
"It was not on you, Decurio, that I fired, but on the hussar," stammered out one of the men, on whom the giant had fixed his eye.
"You lie, traitor! Your ball struck my armour; and had I not worn a shirt of mail, it would have pierced my heart."
The man turned deadly pale, trembling from head to foot.
"My enemies have paid you to murder me?"
The savage tried to speak, but the words died upon his lips.