In each part of the fight they had had fewer men at the front, and the few that now remained fit to fight seemed to be in a manner surrounded.
"Quarter, if thou wilt surrender!" cried Richard to a knight with closed visor, with whom he was crossing swords.
"Quarter!" came faintly back, "Surrender!" and then he sank upon one knee, for he was wounded by an arrow in the thigh.
"All good knights yield themselves to me!" again shouted Richard in French. "They who hold out are lost!"
More than one of them still fought on in a kind of despair, but others laid down their swords at the feet of Richard. As for any other of the defenders of La Belle Calaise, it was sad to seek them; for the Golden Horn had no man left on board of her save Jack of London at the helm, and the English pikes were everywhere plying mercilessly.
"Leave not one!" shouted the O'Rourke hoarsely to his kerns. "Not one of us had they spared if we had been taken. Let Lord Wartmont care for his gentlemen. They will all pay ransom."
So quickly all was over; and all that was left of the force which that morning had crowded the deck under the brave Monsieur de Gaines was less than half of his brave gentlemen, hardly one of them without a wound.
The Sieur de Beaumont had now recovered his senses; but as he arose and looked around him, he exclaimed:
"Lord Richard of Wartmont, I would thou wouldst show me the mercy to throw me into the sea. How shall I face my king after such a disgrace as this!"
"'Twas not thy fault, brave sir," said Richard courteously. "It is the fortune of war. Say to thy king from me, that thy ship was lost when the Comte de Gaines tumbled so many of his force into the Golden Horn. Thou mayest say that he knew not how ready were we to meet him."