A sweeping cut delivered at Geoffrey's head the squire caught upon his shield, with no other ill effect than to shear off its upper corner.
Then with lightning rapidity the cut was repeated, this time full on the youth's right side. The Englishman's sword barely checked the swinging blow that all but numbed the lad's sword-arm, while his counter-cut fell harmlessly upon the French knight's gorget.
Realizing that the only way to avoid the seemingly tireless cuts was to get within his adversary's guard Geoffrey dug his spurs into the flanks of his charger. The powerful brute instantly responded, and the two animals were plunging neck to neck as Geoffrey rained a hail of ineffectual blows upon the Frenchman, who in turn endeavoured to shorten his sword and recover his lost advantage.
Heedlessly the two combatants were edging down stream, till with a neigh of terror the Frenchman's horse lost its footing. Its hind feet had slipped over a shelf in the bed of the river. Scraping desperately with its fore hoofs it strove to regain a foothold. Only by his prompt action was Geoffrey able to save himself and his steed from a similar fate.
"Help me, I yield," shouted the knight, dropping his sword and holding out his right hand.
In reply, Geoffrey stretched out his gauntleted hand to grasp his vanquished foe, but ere he could do so the struggling animal's feet slipped from the ledge, and in an instant horse and knight were lost to view in the depths of the mill-stream.
By this time the ford was won. Those of the defenders who had escaped slaughter had fled, save a few who, taking shelter in the mill, resisted desperately till slain to the last man.
The Constable of Portchester's company had lost heavily. Fifteen gallant men-at-arms had ridden to their death, while a score more had been sorely wounded. Ratclyffe was making light of a blow that, cracking his steel bascinet, had grazed his forehead till he was well-nigh blinded with blood. Neither Sir Thomas nor his squire Geoffrey had sustained injury, though dents in their armour bore silent testimony to the heat of the action. But the object of the engagement was achieved, for without further molestation the whole of the little English army crossed the Somme.
"Ay, my lord, they bore themselves right manfully," replied Sir Thomas Carberry, when the Earl of Exeter complimented him on the gallant exploit of the company. "But here we are across the river, and I'll warrant our difficulties are only begun. Yet mark these rascals of mine, they reck not the odds, so long as there is the prospect of a fight."
"Then they'll have their desire ere long, Sir Thomas," replied the Earl—"a fight compared with which this gallant deed is but naught. The fame of the English arms will ring through Christendom ere we reach Calais."