"The Genoese still clung to his back, however, and Sir John was unable to use his sword. To our horror, after a few moments' tottering upon the edge, both men, still clinging desperately to one another, pitched headlong over the side of the ship down into the sea in the space betwixt the prows of the grinding ships. Seeing what was coming, and knowing only too well that Sir John, clad in full armour, would sink like a stone, thy father snatched at a rope, and without a moment's hesitation sprang after him. So instant was he that he did not even stay to see that the other end of the rope was secured, and he must have left the ship before ever Sir John had touched the water. 'Twas a rash act, a gallant act, and it all but failed, for the end of the rope was free, and was just disappearing over the side when I pounced upon it.
"The strain upon it was so heavy that I almost followed. Thomelin the archer, however, also seized hold of the rope, and we two pulled and tugged. In a moment or two the strain eased somewhat, and we guessed that the big Genoese had been compelled to leave go. Then we began to draw in hand over hand until two heads appeared above the surface. They belonged to Sir John and thy father.
"Now came the heartrending part of the whole affair. A slight swell was gently heaving, and ever and anon the ships ground and clashed together. Knowing this, and fearing that we might not draw up the knights before one or other of the ships heaved inwards irresistibly, we pulled with all our might and shouted aloud for others to come to our aid. But the rush of fighting men had passed onwards, and the noise was so prodigious that we were unheard or unheeded. So we bent to the work, and soon had Sir John, who was uppermost, on a level with the decks. We had pulled him safe aboard, and were about to draw up Sir Richard, when--lad, it makes me sick to think of it--one of our own ships, falling on the swell, moved inwards and caught him by the legs against the ship on which we stood. He gave a gasp and let go his hold, but we seized him, and, the swell passing onwards, drew him aboard.
"One glance was sufficient to tell us that his hours were numbered. Notwithstanding his armour, his legs and the lower part of his body were badly crushed. He was still conscious, however, and we laid him on the deck of the enemy's ship, now all but won, and Sir John knelt over him.
"'Goodbye, Sir John!' he said faintly. 'I am gone. Leave me and renew the fight.'
"'Nay, Richard, I cannot leave thee thus,' cried Sir John, weeping. 'Dear comrade, thou hast sacrificed thy life for mine. I will stay and do what little I still may towards that debt. The battle is won without another stroke from me.'
"'I rejoice that all goes well. If thou wilt do aught for me, look to my boy Edgar. His mother died a year agone, and he is alone save for me. Place him with thy esquires, if I ask not too much.'
"'Richard, it is done. Right gladly will I.'
"'He will be landless, like his father, as thou know'st, and he must carve his way with his sword. Let him know this. Spoil him not. I think he will do well, though his mother has had his upbringing and not I.'
"'If he is half as gallant as his father he will need little help from me,' responded Sir John. 'Is there naught else I can do? Here is water Matthew hath brought.'