This episode was unnoticed in a much greater matter. The knight, his armour glittering in the morning sun, fell headlong, but turning as he neared the water, struck it with a slap that sounded a mile off. None ever thought to see him again. But he fell at the edge of the fascines on which the turret stood all cocked on one side, and his spear stuck into them under water, and by a mighty effort he got to the side, but could not get out. Anthony sent a dozen knights with a white flag to take him prisoner. He submitted like a lamb, but said nothing. He was taken to Anthony's tent. That worthy laughed at first at the sight of his muddy armour, but presently, frowning, said, “I marvel, sir, that so good a knight as you should know his devoir so ill as turn rebel, and give us all this trouble.” “I am nun-nun-nun-nun-nun-no knight.” “What then?” “A hosier.” “A what? Then thy armour shall be stripped off, and thou shalt be tied to a stake in front of the works, and riddled with arrows for a warning to traitors.” “N-n-n-n-no! duda-duda-duda-duda-don't do that.” “Why not?” “Tuta-tuta-tuta-townsfolk will-h-h-h-hang t'other buba-buba-buba-buba-bastard.” “What, whom?” “Your bub-bub-bub-brother Baldwyn.” “What, have you knaves ta'en him?” The warlike hosier nodded. “Hang the fool!” said Anthony, peevishly. The warlike hosier watched his eye, and doffing his helmet, took out of the lining an intercepted letter from the duke, bidding the said Anthony come to court immediately, as he was to represent the court of Burgundy at the court of England; was to go over and receive the English king's sister, and conduct her to her bridegroom, the Earl of Charolois. The mission was one very soothing to Anthony's pride, and also to his love of pleasure. For Edward the Fourth held the gayest and most luxurious court in Europe. The sly hosier saw he longed to be off, and said, “We'll gega-gega-gega-gega-give ye a thousand angels to raise the siege.” “And Baldwyn?” “I'll gega-gega-gega-gega-go and send him with the money.” It was now dinner-time; and a flag of truce being hoisted on both sides, the sham knight and the true one dined together and came to a friendly understanding. “But what is your grievance, my good friend?” “Tuta-tuta-tuta-tuta-too much taxes.” Denys, on finding the arrow in his right arm, turned his back, which was protected by a long shield, and walked sulkily into camp. He was met by the Comte de Jarnac, who had seen his brilliant shot, and finding him wounded into the bargain, gave him a handful of broad pieces. “Hast got the better of thy grief, arbalestrier, methinks.” “My grief, yes; but not my love. As soon as ever I have put down this rebellion, I go to Holland, and there I shall meet with him.” This event was nearer than Denys thought. He was relieved from service next day, and though his wound was no trifle, set out with a stout heart to rejoin his friend in Holland. CHAPTER XLIII