The greenwood men turned like bayed wolves on the rescuer, but he hacked a path through them and won to Hugh's side. He was a quaint contrast to that ring of forest outlaws, tired in a flaring surcoat of bright colours over silvered mail, his red cap peaked by a trailing feather. He was slim in build, with a dark, hawk-nosed face and eyes that smouldered on far-away visions. But what caught Hugh's eye at once was the sword that he wielded so skilfully, a strange, curved blade, wholly unlike the straight sword of Western Europe. In his left hand, too, the stranger carried a dagger, long and somewhat curved, and this served him as a shield to parry the blows that rained upon him. As Hugh scrambled to his feet, the leader of the outlaws leaped in to close quarters, endeavouring to strike behind the rescuer's back and catch Hugh unawares. But the stranger warded him off, and in retaliation sliced him down the arm with a peculiar side-long stroke. "Hast gained your breath, lord?" he asked Hugh casually. "Ay? Then shall we charge this rabble?" Hugh nodded, and the two sprang forward, side by side, blades whistling. The stouter of the greenwood men stood their ground until the steel bit flesh. Then they scattered and ran. Hugh paused at the wood's edge. "No farther?" enquired his rescuer. "It is not safe," answered Hugh. "These woodland men carry bows, and if they should undertake to loose shafts at us all our armour might not withstand them." "So? Then why did they not slay you out of hand?" "That is what I would find out," returned Hugh grimly. He sought the roadside where lay one of his assailants, bleeding freely from a deep wound in the groin. "Make haste," advised the stranger. "The rascal will be sped an you tarry." Hugh nodded and knelt at the man's side. "Hark to me," he commanded. "I am the Lord of Chesby. Dost know that, fellow?" "Yes," groaned the man. "Why would you have slain me? Tell me true and a Mass shall be said for your soul's rest." "We were paid." "By whom?" "I know him not." "You lie." Hugh frowned down at him. "Tell me the truth." "It is the truth, lord. He was known to none of us. He rode up from the sea." "From the sea?" An idea entered Hugh's head. "What manner of man was he?" "Short--swart--pockmarks on his face." The robber talked with difficulty. "He--was--from--the--sea." Hugh rose. "Do you make aught of this gibberish?" enquired the stranger, wiping his sword with a handful of grass. "Enough to set me thinking, sir knight." "Ah, an old enemy hath hired them?" "I am disposed to think so." "An you seek him out later, I should be pleased to attend you," proffered the stranger eagerly. "I thank you, sir knight," answered Hugh, "but if he be the man I suspect, he himself is a-many leagues distant from this." "That is bad," deplored the other. "Quick vengeance is always the best. But I would have you know, lord, that I am no knight, although I wear harness."