But it was no villain's voice that rang out next. It was my uncle's, and with him were men-at-arms. And as he shouted my assailants left me, and, jumping into their saddles, fled into the wood.
So I was free, and my letter safe, and my uncle raised me up, and most tenderly handled me to find my injuries.
"Curse the day," he said, "that I sent thee forth alone! How did I not suspect ill!"
"But how camest thou in such good hour?" I asked, still trembling.
"My heart smote me," said he, "to send thee thus alone. And, indeed, I felt a presage of ill. So I got my men-at-arms, and swore that I would be thy convoy to the duke himself."
"Uncle," said I, "these were no highwaymen."
"What then, lad?"
"They were searching me for the abbot's letter, my passport to William," I said.
"Then traitors grow like mulberries down yonder," he said, pointing back to the Marvel. "But now, if we press on, we shall reach ere nightfall the house of a good knight, where we shall lie safe till morning."
So we trotted forward, and in two hours' time we were at the gateway of the castle of the Sieur de la Haye, who received my uncle with all courtesy, and refreshed us and our steeds; and next morning we rode to Coutances.