"Nay, Jean; restrain yourself," counselled the older man laying his hand lightly on the other's arm. "Be not too severe in your judgment 'gainst the varlets. Time was, and not so long since, when we too were in doubt concerning the maiden. They may intend no harm, but I deemed it the part of wisdom to put you on guard. Let us say nothing, but watch and wait." "You are right, Bertrand." De Metz spoke more quietly. "They may intend no harm, but 'tis well to be on guard. If they should attempt anything--" He paused, touching his sword significantly. Poulengy nodded, and the two returned to the camp. As they made night marches they rested by day. For this day they had selected for camp a cove that lay between two shoulders of the winding hills on the banks of a swollen stream. Though a cold rain was falling there was no fire for fear of the enemy. The leafless boughs did little to ward off the rain, and there was not much comfort in the chill woods, so the party ate in silence the cold bread and meat which De Metz had obtained in the town. They but waited for the darkness that they might take to horse again. Richard the bowman was sentinel, and after the comfortless meal they all lay down on the wet ground to get what rest they could. They were aroused by a wild shout from the Archer, who rushed among them, crying: "The English! The English are upon us!" Instantly the two knights and the King's messenger were upon their feet, and drawing their swords, threw themselves quickly before Jeanne. She alone was undisturbed, and merely rose to a sitting posture as the men breathlessly awaited the approach of the enemy. The knights' servants, Jean de Honecourt and Julien, made as though about to flee when Jeanne spoke in her grave, sweet voice: "Do not flee. I tell you in God's name, they will not harm you." At this Richard the bowman, seeing that she was not afraid, burst out laughing. With a bound Jean de Metz had reached him, and had him by the throat. "Varlet," he cried, shaking the fellow angrily. "Know you not that there are perils enough about us without giving a false alarm? That loud outcry of yours may bring the enemy upon us. I am minded to fling you into that water." "I but did it to scare the witch," muttered Richard sullenly, eyeing the swollen stream with whitening face. The water was dismally cold, and very deep at this point. "I meant no harm." But De Metz, enraged by the word "witch," lifted him bodily, preparatory to carrying out his threat, when Jeanne's soft tones arrested him: "Do not so, my friend," she said sweetly. "The jest was ill timed, 'tis true; but still it was but a jest. He could neither frighten nor harm me. None can do that until I have fulfilled my mission. Let him go."