"Aye! But ’twas flooded then, full twenty feet across. And they made such a to-do being held up by a strange river that our outposts discovered them and we soon turned out. We couldn’t get across at them, but drew up our men on the far side of the ditch and fired across. We were twenty feet apart, mind you, but their fellows fired too high and there was small slaughter on our side the ditch. Later we bridged the Rhine and got fairly at them, and then our cavalry came round from Western Zeyland and then ’twas soon over. There was no doubt of victory from the beginning, and but for the darkness and some confusion at first the fight had not lasted so long. The peasants fought bravely enow, I confess,—I would I had the training of some of them,—but the attack was bungled. Nothing was provided for, their guides led them astray, their ammunition was lost, they had no competent leaders, and not knowing whether to advance or retire, they stood still and were cut down like grass. The leadership was a disgrace. Lord Grey and the cavalry ran away, at the first shot, and the Duke and most of his officers directly after." "By Heavens, sir! I will endure no more." Sir Ralph stood beside them, his hand clapped to his sword-hilt, his face crimson, his eyes blazing with fury. "I will endure no more o’ this!" he cried. "Is it not enough, sir, that you force yourself upon this lady’s company, but you must needs poison her ears with lies concerning your damned victory, with dastardly slanders against myself and my friends? By Heaven, sir, but you shall answer for those words ere the world be a day older." Captain Protheroe stared for a moment in amazement. Then he gave a quick exclamation of annoyance and embarrassment. "Peste!" he muttered. "I had entirely forgotten you were o’ the other party." "Maybe, sir, but that is no excuse for your words." The officer rose to his feet, looking annoyed and troubled. "My words! I am sorry they offend you. Had I but remembered your presence I had not spoken so rashly, perchance. But—the words are spoken, and"—with a shrug, "i’ faith, I cannot alter facts." "Facts! The whole story is a dastardly lie." "Sir!" "And you shall give me satisfaction." "With the greatest pleasure, sir, as soon as I can come by a sword. I shall enjoy nothing more." Barbara gazed desperately from one angry man to the other, hesitating what best to do. Then she stepped between them with quiet dignity. "Ralph! Captain Protheroe! Gentlemen! You forget yourselves, I think." Captain Protheroe flushed and bowed stiffly. "Your pardon, madame," he said coldly. Sir Ralph looked moodily at the girl. The danger was not yet past. "Captain Protheroe," she continued, with the same quiet air of command, "I have dropped my—my kerchief in yonder ditch, I think. Will you have the goodness to go in search of it."