In an instant of agony Simon realized that all was lost, that the flower of the Athenian army was snared in that mysterious marish, and that there was little chance for any man among them to come out alive. Already the Spanish knife-men were thick and busy among their victims, paddling easily where horse and armor sank, and dealing death wherever they came with their terrible knives. Already Duke Baldwin was down with twenty men upon him. Hardly a dozen yards away Simon saw the girlish face of Guy de Hainault for the first time writhen with rage. He had lifted his visor to see more clearly what had happened, and he wielded his sword in vain against his unreachable assailants, and then a dozen men were on him from behind, and a dozen knives met in his body, and he went down and Simon saw him no more. The black slush was everywhere reddening with blood, as knight after knight perished ingloriously, helpless to evade the stings that slew them, and unable to strike a good stroke in defence of his life and of Athens. It all happened so quickly, so unexpectedly, that Simon caught himself staring at the bloody work about him in a kind of unconsciousness, a kind of indifference, such as a man might wear who came unexpectedly upon a puppet-show in a village square. Above him the sky, to which his eyes travelled unawares, shone as brightly blue as it had shone in the hours of their merry march, since the peach color of the dawn had faded. The bright Greek world was the same, and yet the bright Greek world was all different, a mud-stained, blood-stained slaughter-spot, where brave knights were being murdered. Then, in the midst of the butchery all about him, Simon thought suddenly of the greenwood and a girl with a face like a god, and of a noble youth who rode at his side and strove to force his way over the morass. Instantly a great resolve came into Simon's mind that he would save the boy Rainouart for the girl Argathona. Long afterwards, happily settled in Rouen, Simon, when he thought over the events of that whirling hour, used to remind himself that then, for the first time in his life, he devoutly gave God thanks for having made him so strong. In those after days in peaceful Rouen, he knew the cause of the catastrophe. The subtle genius of Fernand Ximenes had prepared an amazing trap for the Athenian army. He had turned aside the current of the river Cephissus into the cornfields of the Theban plain, and so flooded them, the quagmire thus created being completely concealed by the green standing corn. It was into this swamp that Duke Baldwin had ridden to his death, and it was in this swamp that Simon was now to struggle for his life and for the life of his lord.