Our progress was slow at the first, for our prisoner sat most unevenly in his bonds; and we had no mind to let him fall by the way. And we had no more than fairly set out on the road when he began to shout and halloo in such wise that Dickon o’ the Wallfield, who rode behind him, was fain to bring him to understanding of his hopeless plight by a sharp prick from his poniard’s point. Thereafter he was silent; and we made better way; but withal most precious time had been lost. The night had already fallen, and with another quarter hour we might have won safely away. But as we approached the fork of the road we heard a thunder of hoofs coming from the castle. The riders were nearer the joining than we, and ere we could gain the bridge we heard their horses upon it and knew that Sir John Champney’s men were drawing up in battle array to meet us. As we surmised even then, Sir John had divided the force that he so hastily summoned to punish the supposed outlaws who seized the Abbot for a ransom, and had sent one party straight to the Abbey and led the other to this point to intercept us. In the light from the great moon now rising, we could see that their numbers were more than twice our own. They were variously armed, as was to be expected with men who had been so abruptly summoned forth; but there were lances and steel caps enow and some had coats of mail. We sorely wished for the good broadswords we left behind at Stamford or the cross-bows with which a dozen of our party were so skilled. But now was not time for hesitation or for choosing of courses. Well we knew that in a trice the other party, riding from the Abbey gates, would be on our track and we would be taken in front and rear. With a mighty shout we rode down upon the bridge, trusting all to the darkness and the fury of our attack. In a moment we were in the midst of a bloody mêlée on the bridge. Our men thrust back their hampering robes, and hewed and slashed with deadly effect; but those opposing us were no weaklings nor novices in war. Sir John Champney slew two of our men with downright broadsword strokes and another was pierced through throat by a lance. I rode in a closer press of fighting than I had seen since the Battle of the Pass; and once or twice was near beaten from my horse, though some of those that rained their blows on me fared worse indeed. Then Cedric came face to face with Sir John Champney, received a broadsword stroke on his uplifted, mail-clad arm, and countered with a blow that sent his enemy to earth. Instantly the cry arose that Sir John was slain. Most of his followers were French and Flemish mercenaries; and now they melted away before us, fleeing to the fields on either side of the bridge or leaping to the shallow waters below. We paused long enough to learn that our men who had fallen were past all help; then rode forward at a gallop up the moon-lighted way, with our prisoner still safely bound and in our midst.