“I presume then, Mandeville, you did for that fellow Martinitz?” said Cutts.
“The gigantic Hulan was hurled from his saddle like a stone from a sling. I saw him roll thrice over, grasping his hands full of sand at every turn.”
“That must have been very satisfactory. And what became of the duke?”
“Often did I strive to force my way through the press to the spot where Kalbs-Braten fought. I will not belie him—he bore himself that day like a man. And yet he had better protection than either helm or shield; for around him fought his foster-father, Tiefenbach of the Yews, with his seven bold sons, all striving to shelter their prince’s body with their own. No sooner had I struck down one of them than the old man cried—‘Another for Kalbs-Braten!’ and a second giant stepped across the prostrate body of his brother!”
“The Fair Maid of Perth, for a rump and a dozen!” was my remark.
“Meanwhile, Conrad of the Thirty Mountains had reached the spot where Slavata with his cavalry was attempting the passage of the morass. Some of the Hulans were entangled there from the soft nature of the ground, the horses having sunk in the mire almost up to their saddle-girths. Others, among whom was their leader, had successfully struggled through.
“Conrad and Slavata met. They were both powerful men, and well matched. As if by common consent, the soldiers on either side held back to witness the encounter of their chiefs.
“Slavata spoke first. ‘I know thee well,’ he said: ‘thou art the marauding baron of the Thirty Mountains, whose head is worth its weight of gold at the castle-gate of Kalbs-Braten. I swore when we last met that we should not part again so lightly, and now I will keep my oath!’
“‘And I know thee, too,’ said Conrad; ‘thou art the marauding villain Slavata, whose body I intend to hang upon my topmost turret, to blacken in the sun and feed the ravens and the kites!’
“‘Threatened men live long,’ replied Slavata with a hollow laugh; ‘thy sister’s son, the Geissenheimer, said as much before, but for all that I passed this good sword three times through his bosom!’