"Vassal, you promised to fight with me!" cried Conrad of Nointel. "Of what use are these ancient stories?" "Do you repudiate the acts of your ancestors? Do you repudiate your class?" "Even with your sword at my throat I shall to the very end pronounce myself proud of belonging to the warrior class that has held you under the whip and the stick, ye miserable serfs.... Even dying would I smite your faces!" With a wafture of his hand Jocelyn restrains a fresh explosion of fury from the Jacques, and says to Adam the Devil: "Deliver the seigneur of his bonds.... Once more in the course of the centuries a son of Joel and a son of Neroweg shall take each other's measure, sword in hand!" "And may my stock again meet yours to the undoing of your own!" answered Conrad of Nointel in a hollow voice. "The elder branch of my family still occupies its domains in Auvergne ... and my father's brother has sons! The race of the Nerowegs will reappear across the ages!" "Battle!... Battle!" said Jocelyn. "It shall be a battle to the death, without quarter or mercy.... Battle!" "And also I, brother, shall have neither pity nor mercy for that thief, the cause of all my misfortunes!" cried Mazurec, pointing at the knight of Chaumontel, and added: "Adam, untie also his hands. There is room enough here for a double combat. My brother shall have the seigneur.... I shall take this thief of a knight. Give me a pitch-fork, the fork is the lance of Jacques Bonhomme." Freed of his bonds and clad only in his shirt and hose, Gerard of Chaumontel receives from William Caillet a stick to defend himself with, and from Adam the Devil a rude push that throws him in front of Mazurec, who, protected from head to foot by the knight's own armor, holds up his three-pronged and sharp fork. "Come up, you double thief!" Mazurec called out; "must I step forward to meet you?" [The knight of Chaumontel, pale from fright and pursued by the cries of (these words missing due to printer's error, here translated from the French version by the etext transcriber)] the Jacques, grasps his stick with both hands and forcing a smile on his lips answers: "The heralds-at-arms have not yet given the signal." In the meantime, Conrad of Nointel, whose arms have been unbound, stooped down to seize the sword from which Jocelyn had not yet lifted his foot. "One moment!" cried the champion, always with his foot firmly on the sword. "Sire of Nointel, look me in the face ... if you dare!" Conrad raised his head, fastened his glistening eyes upon his adversary and asked: "What do you want?" "Worthy Sire, I wish to goad you to the combat. I mistrust your courage. You fled like a coward at the battle of Poitiers, and a minute ago you referred to me as a vile slave fit only for the whip and the cane--" "And I say so again!" yelled Conrad turning red and white with rage, "you vagabond!"