Near by De Joinville’s position, a streamlet entered the river, and across that ran a bridge by which the Turks attempted to cut the king’s retreat. This bridge the little hero, well mounted now, held for hours, covering the flight of French detachments. At the head of one such party rode Count Peter, of Brittany, spitting the blood from his mouth and shouting “Ha! by God’s head, have you ever seen such riffraff?” “In front of us were two of the king’s sergeants; ... and the Turks ... brought a large number of churls afoot, who pelted them with lumps of earth, but were never able to force them back upon us. At last they brought a churl on foot, who thrice threw Greek fire at them. Once William of Boon received the pot of Greek fire on his target, for if the fire had caught any of his garments he must have been burnt alive. We were all covered with the darts that failed to hit the sergeants. Now, it chanced that I found a Saracen’s quilted tunic lined with tow; I turned the open side towards me, and made a shield ... which did me good service, for I was only wounded by their darts in five places, and my horse in fifteen.... The good Count of Soissons, in that point of danger, jested with me and said, “‘Seneschal, let these curs howl! By God’s bonnet we shall talk of this day yet, you and I, in ladies’ chambers!’” So came the constable of France, who relieved Joinville and sent him to guard the king. “So as soon as I came to the king, I made him take off his helmet, and lent him my steel cap so that he might have air.” Presently a knight brought news that the Count of Artois, the king’s brother, was in paradise. “Ah, Sire,” said the provost, “be of good comfort herein, for never did king of France gain so much honor as you have gained this day. For in order to fight your enemies you have passed over a river swimming, and you have discomfited them and driven them from the field, and taken their engines, and also their tents wherein you will sleep this night.” And the king replied: “Let God be worshiped for all He has given me,” and then the big tears fell from his eyes. That night the captured camp was attacked in force, much to the grief of De Joinville and his knights, who ruefully put on chain mail over their aching wounds. Before they were dressed De Joinville’s chaplain engaged eight Saracens and put them all to flight. Three days later came a general attack of the whole Saracen army upon the Christian camp, but thanks to the troops of Count William, of Flanders, De Joinville and his wounded knights were not in the thick of the fray. “Wherein,” he says, “God showed us great courtesy, for neither I nor my knights had our hawberks (chain shirts) and shields, because we had all been wounded.” You see De Joinville had the sweet faith that his God was a gentleman.