Hot, breathless, and confused, I staggered from the water, and sinking down upon a rock, sat staring at my rescuer like one bedazed.
He was a sturdy, well-set man, some few years older than myself, with a fine, bold face and manner.
"Why, thou art wounded, friend," said he, pointing with his sword at the blood which trickled slowly from my sleeve.
"Nay, 'tis but a prick," I answered.
"Well, we had best make sure of that," said he, and kneeling down, pulled up my sleeve and found the wound. A small vein had been pierced, but nothing more. Taking a kerchief from his neck, he bound it tightly round the spot, then, rising, said:
"You were hard pressed, methinks."
"Yes, I have fought with five this night," I answered, "and have slain three of them--two here, and one up yonder."
"Good, now, by my life! Most excellent!" cried he. "I dearly love a man who wins to victory against such odds."
"The victory was far from being mine," I answered; "for, had you not thus come in the nick of time, I should most surely have been lying dead beneath the sea by now. You saved my life, sir, and I owe you much."
"Nay, 'twas naught," he murmured, sheathing his sword and gazing out across the moonlit water. "Faith, I scarcely struck a blow; 'twas but a nimbleness in coming down yon cliff-path. But to have killed three men out of five! Ah! that was lovely; that was worth the doing. Yes, by my life, such lusty deeds as those have made Old England what she is, and will, methinks, make her still greater and more feared in years to come."