Barron had dismounted and they had just begun a passage as I rode up.
I was almost beside myself with rage and I rode close to the soldier to be certain of my aim. I meant to end matters and would run no risk at night, so I shot quick and sure for the centre of the man's body and had the satisfaction of seeing him double up and drop in the roadway.
Barron stooped over him and picked up his long straight sword. He looked at it for a moment and then passed it to me. It was a very heavy weapon and as sharp as a razor.
"Come," said Barron, "let us carry him into the bushes and go ahead."
The form of the soldier moved slightly as he spoke.
"I thought you killed him," he continued, and he sprang forward with his sword drawn back for a final thrust.
"Hold on!" I cried, "he's dead unless made of iron," and I jumped down from my horse and bent over the fallen man just as he started to raise himself.
"His belt! Quick!" I cried, and I grasped him around the body with all my strength.
Before he fully realized what was taking place, we had his elbows lashed fast behind him and I had a chance to find out why he not was dead.