He gave them but the briefest glance, for just at that moment the players began a new set-to, and claimed his attention. In a little bit, however, he felt a sharp buffet at side of the head, and, turning, saw that one of the boys had thrown the rind of a melon so as to strike him on the cheek. As Wulf looked around, both the boys were laughing; but the little girl stood somewhat off from them, her eyes flashing and her cheeks aglow as with anger. She said no word, but looked with great scorn upon her companions. “Well, tinker,” called the boy who had thrown the melon-rind, “mind thy manners before the lady! Have off thy cap or thou’lt get this,” and he grasped the other half-rind of melon, which the second boy held. “Nay, Conradt!” the little maid cried, staying his hand. “The lad is a stranger, and come upon an errand; do we treat such folk thus?” Wulf’s cap was by now in his hand, and, with crimson cheeks, he made a shy salutation to the little girl, who returned it courteously, while the boys still laughed. “What dost thou next, tinker?” the one whom she had called Conradt said, strutting forward. “Faith, thy manners sorely need mending. What dost to me?” “Fight you,” said Wulf, quick as a flash, and then drew back, abashed; for, as the boy came forward, he saw that he bore a great hump upon his twisted back, while one of his shoulders was higher than the other. The deformed boy saw the motion, and his face grew dark with rage and hate. “Thou’lt fight me?” he screamed, springing forward. “Ay, that thou shalt, and rue it after, tinker’s varlet that thou art!” And with his hand he smote Wulf upon the mouth, whereupon he dropped the corselet and clenched his fists, but could lay no blow on the pitiful creature before him. Seeing this, the other, half crazed with anger, drew a short sword which he wore, and made at Wulf, who raised the armorer’s staff which he still held and struck the little blade to the ground. By now the two fencers and their umpire were drawn near to see the trouble, and one of them picked up the sword. “Come, cockerel,” he said, restoring it to him, “put up thy spur and let be. Now, lad, what is the trouble?” and he turned sharp upon Wulf. “’Tis the armorer’s cub,” he said to his companions as he made him out. “By the rood, lad, canst not come on a small errand for thy master without brawling in this fashion in the castle yard? Go do thy message and get about home, and bid thy master teach thee what is due thy betters ere he sends thee hither again.” “Yon lad struck me,” Wulf said stoutly. “I’ve spoken no word till now.” “Truly, Herr Werner,” put in the little girl, earnestly, “it is as he says. Conradt has e’en gone far out of his way to show the boy an ill will, though he has done naught.” At this Herr Werner looked again upon Conradt. “So, cockerel,” he said. “Didst not get wisdom from the last pickle I pulled thee out of?”