A word from the stranger in an unknown tongue, and the Welshmen retired.
"Rascals, iss what ye call tem?" asked the new arrival, laughing boisterously. "I would haf yes know, poy, tat tey are from Glamorgan—from Glamorgan, I tell you! And tey are the best men in the Army, I tell ye, poy, for tey are my men, I, David Evans, knight off Glamorgan. I pray ye pear tat in mind. I myself tought ye wass a Norman, or at pest a Gascon, seeing ye wass to wear a Frenchman's hauberk."
The Welsh leader rode off, leaving Raymond to wonder how he could escape molestation from his friends and still stand by his captive. Most of the pursuers kept to the highway, and only a few came close to where he stood. In vain he begged and entreated the passing soldiers to give a hand to carry off the unconscious Count. Even the promise of a silver penny had no effect, for the English, intent on plunder, were already streaming into Caen with the last of their foes, and the comparatively bountiful offer of payment was invariably rejected with contempt.
At length, despairing of obtaining assistance, Raymond left his prisoner and made his way back to the road, hoping to see a familiar face amongst the victorious soldiers who were hurrying forward to join in the sack of the town, but there were none of the Hampshire companies.
Picking up another sword to replace his broken weapon, the squire preferred to go back to guard his captive, consoling himself with the thought that on the Count's return to consciousness he could lead him into the camp; then, suddenly bethinking himself of the rivulet higher up the road, he hastened towards it to slake his burning thirst.
This he did, and thereupon made his way back by a different route to where the Count lay. Barely had he gone half the distance than he came to a dry ditch, where, to his surprise, he found two fugitives cowering in the long grass that grew in the trench.
"Je me rends!" they both exclaimed, grovelling at his feet in fear of instant death, for, being but peasants, they knew that scant mercy was shown to those who were unable to offer ransom.
In a moment Raymond saw and seized his chance. "Vous êtes mes prisonniers," he exclaimed, brandishing his weapon. "Venez avec moi."
Driving them before him, the squire soon reached the place where he had left the Count of Tancarville, and indicated by signs that they should carry him. This they did, panting with their exertions, for the knight in his complete armour was a heavy burden. Their progress was slow, till on arriving on the highway Raymond made them take two broken lances, and forming a rough litter, they were able to make a better pace.
At length, they came in sight of the camp, and to his great joy Raymond saw the well-known banner of the crescent on the blue field, waving close to the pavilion over which floated the royal standard of England, for the Constable of Portchester's company was that day detailed as guard to the camp.