Drawing rein at fifty yards, we all three let fly our bolts, Cedric and old William each bringing down his man. My own bolt flew wide of the robber captain because of my fear of striking the youth who was now his prisoner. Then, dropping the bow, I betook me to a weapon more natural to my temper, and, sword in hand, was instantly in combat with the chief. He pushed the boy behind him and gave me blow for blow; and, truth to tell, he handled his blade—the weapon of a knight and gentleman—with a skill far beyond that of any yeoman I had known. Our blades flashed merrily in the sunlight that now streamed through a rent in the western clouds; and I lost all knowledge of the fray around us. I fought on horseback, and he on foot; but he gave no inch of ground save to leap from side to side in avoiding my downward strokes. All his thrusts I managed to parry; but, somewhat with swordsmanship and more with wondrous quickness of foot, he likewise foiled mine. Twice had I essayed the best of all my tricks of fence only to fail in reaching my tall and nimble enemy. I was gathering my wits for another stratagem, the which might take him off his guard, when suddenly, and to my great amaze, he leaped aside from my attack and sprang behind a tree trunk. From there he leaped to another, farther in the forest; and so by running and hiding, quickly disappeared in the greenwood. I looked about me, dizzied with the quickness of that which had befallen; and beheld a sight for tears and groaning. Both the stranger men-at-arms lay dead on the oak leaves amidst the bodies of five of the outlaws who had been slain by their swords and our cross-bow bolts; and, lying with his shoulders half supported by Cedric’s arms, was our faithful old William, his breast pierced by a cloth-yard shaft and his eyes just closing in death. Cedric sadly laid down the body of our old retainer; and I thought it fitting to make a hasty prayer for his soul’s peace. Then, as I rose, the stranger youth came forward haltingly. Methought he had a most winsome face, with honest eyes of blue and with brown and curling hair. I was about to offer some friendly greeting when our ears were affrayed by a loud blast of a hunting horn which came from a furlong’s distance in the wood. Cedric’s face changed instantly; and he grasped at my elbow. “Quick, Sir Dickon!” he cried. “Let us mount and away. Yon notes are the call of the robber chief to all his band. They’ll be here anon and slay us every one if we make not haste.”