"There spoke a coward," was his word, and drawing back upon his ground he swung up his sword arm to the height, and husbanding the weight of his whole body, stood poised to cut me down. I saw the blow coming, even in the dark, and despairing to avoid it, let drive right forward, at the same moment muffling up my eyes in the sleeve of my idle arm, for the terror of death was upon me then. Our swords sang.... But even as I struck I knew that a miracle had been wrought, for his sword never fell. Sick with amazement I opened my eyes, to see him go over amongst the bales, where he sank down with a great sobbing cry. His sword hung quivering from a rafter of the ceiling, which it had bitten into by the blade's breadth. His tallness of stature, and hardly I, had overthrown him and left me victor. "God be praised!" I said very low, when I perceived and could believe how matters had gone; but "God have mercy!" whispered the maid. I turned about. "You had best go, Mistress Avenon," I said. "The rest must be my work." "You will not surrender yourself?" she asked, very white. "If he be dead..." I began, but could not finish for trembling. "He is not dead, I think," she interrupted hastily, and went back to the stair, whence she soon returned with the lamp, which she set down upon a hogshead, and then bent over the wounded man. "A kerchief," she said, briefly, "a scarf; something linen if you have it." I tore off a strip from my sleeve and with that she staunched the worst. We made a compress of my band, drenching it in cold water, and for tightness buckled my belt upon it, which I gave her. "There is burnt wine in yonder firkin," she said, and I fetched a draught in the cup of my two hands. When he sighed we looked at each other, and I said-- "Who is he?" "It is Master Guido Malpas," she whispered, and added, "I am glad you have not killed him." But that speech went near spoiling all, seeing that I had gone into that tourney her champion. "Ay, there would have been another tale to tell," I returned very bitterly, "had your rafters been set but a span higher." "Oh, you mistake me, Mr. Denis (I think they call you so)," said she, and bent low over the wounded man again. "I mean I am glad your kindness to me hath not run so far as you must needs have wished to recall it." It is a maid's voice more than her words that comforts a man, and so, scarce had she spoken but I saw I had misjudged her. "Denis is my name," I said eagerly, "but tell me yours now." "You have heard it, and used it too," she answered smiling. "'Tis Avenon." "Ay, but the other?" I cried. She paused before she told me "Idonia." "He loves you?" I said very quick, and nodded toward Malpas. "He saith so." "Doth he often trouble you thus?" "I fear him," she said so low I could scarce hear her. "But your father?" said I, "or your brothers? Have you none to protect you?"