Even as he spoke, from the broken houses through which they had crept to assail the single knight, dashed ten robbers, naked of feet, evil of look, clothed in skins. One leaped at the knight with a knife in his hand, to be cut down, halfway in his spring, by Sir Geraint's fierce sword-stroke. Then, while Enid stood apart, terror in her heart, prayer on her lips, she saw him as if he were in the midst of a pack of tearing wolves, and in the silent street with its twilight was the sudden clash of steel, the howls and cries of wounded men. Then she was aware that six lay quiet on the road, and the remaining four broke suddenly away towards the shelter of the houses. But two of these Sir Geraint pursued, and cut down before they could reach cover. He rejoined her in silence and sought for a place of lodging; and in a small villa they found a room with but one door. Here they supped from the scrip of food and the bottle of wine which Enid had brought, and there they slept that night. On the morrow they pursued their way, and followed the green road out of the ruined city until they reached the forest. And in the heat and brightness of the high noon the green and coolness of the forestways were sweet, and the sound of tiny streams hidden beneath the leaves was refreshing. Then they came upon a plain where was a village surrounded by a bank of earth, on which was a palisade. And there was a wailing and weeping coming from between the little mud-cabins therein; and as they approached they saw in the middle green four knights in armour and a crowd of poor frightened folk about them. As they passed the gate of the village a poor man ran from the group, and threw himself before Sir Geraint. 'O sir knight,' he cried full piteously, 'if thou art a good knight and a brave, do thou see justice done here. For these four lords would cut my father's throat if he say not where his money is hid.' 'Are they his proper lords?' asked Geraint. 'Nay, sir knight,' said the man. 'Our land is Geraint's, and these lords say that he sleeps all day, and so they will be our masters. And they do ever oppress us with fine and tax and torture.' Therewith Sir Geraint rode through the gate of the village and approached the group. He saw where the four knights stood cruelly torturing a poor old man whom they had tied to a post, and the sweat stood upon the peasant's white face, and the fear of death was in his eyes. 'Lords! lords,' he cried in a spent voice, 'I have no money, for you did take all I had when you told us our lord Geraint was become a court fool.' 'Thou miser!' jeered one of the knights, 'that was two months agone, and thou hast something more by now. Will this loose thy secret, carrion?' At the cruel torture the man shrieked aloud, and by reason of the pain his head sank and he slid down the post in a swoon. And a young woman rushed forth, threw her arm about the hanging body, and with flashing eyes turned and defied the knights.