To a certain extent the Englishman's comrades were at an advantage, being clad in chain armour; but their horses, being totally unprotected, were especially liable to be killed or hamstrung by the knives and spears of the Baggaras. On the other hand, Reeves had his trusty pistol, in addition to a long, straight sword with which he had provided himself. There was barely sufficient distance to gather speed in, but unhesitatingly, with loose rein, the dauntless six rode straight at their foes. There was something so desperate, so ferocious, in their action that even the fanatical Arabs paused and began to give back. But it was not the horsemen's intention to launch themselves into the thickest of their attackers. With superb command of cooperation they wheeled when almost within spear's length of the Arabs, then, spurring past their ragged front, cut several down, and put a respectable distance between them and the rear of their antagonists. Here they slackened their pace and, adopting the role of fugitives, allowed the fleet-footed Baggaras to stream in pursuit, thus serving to increase the distance between the Arabs and the Croixilians who were bearing Sir Jehan's corpse towards the city. The ruse was successful for a time, until some of the savage warriors, leaving their comrades, began to run after the dismounted knights. Then, circumventing the main body, Reeves and the five Croixilians made very fine swordplay with the detached Arabs till threatened by a hand-to-hand struggle with the bulk of their antagonists. These tactics continued till it was seen that Hugh and Gerald were safe within the city, and that there was little possibility of Sir Jehan's bodyguard being cut off; then, with a final flanking charge, the gallant six sought to effect their escape. This they had all but succeeded in achieving when a spear, hurled by a gigantic negro, buried itself in the flanks of Garth's horse. The brute staggered a few yards, then fell, throwing its rider; and before the others could pull in their steeds, twenty ferocious Arabs were upon the unfortunate Croixilian. Now was Reeves's chance to make good use of his still fully-charged pistol. Urging his powerful horse up to the struggling mob, who in their eagerness to dispatch the infidel were hampering each other, the Englishman fired again and again, the bullets doing great execution in the dense throng of surging and swaying bodies. Just as he was about to fire the last shot, a spear transfixed his left shoulder. The pistol fell from his nerveless grasp, but with his right hand he wrenched out the keen blade. The pain transformed him into a veritable berserk, and, ably seconded by his remaining comrades, he threw himself into the press, hewing right and left with his blade.