The beech¹ wood filled with sudden movement, and its blackness was like a storm cloud sending out a vague and hollow muttering. Dark shapes came hurrying out of the gloom beyond the gray trunks, the shapes of men and horses that took on color, fierceness, life. There was the rattle² of harness, the flashing of steel. John Rich and his riders came out at the gallop³.  
A piece of tapestry⁴ seemed unrolled, so swiftly did things happen. The very power of movement was taken away from Martin Valliant. He saw all that passed as though it were in a dream, the black figure of John Rich and his horse going at the gallop with spear leveled, the men behind him strung out in a half circle and all rushing like the wind. There was Mellis’s white face, helpless, hesitating, like a piece of apple blossom floating on the blackness of a pool. Young Nigel Blount, sword in air, was shouting to his men, who had turned tail and were running for the shelter of the woods. Then Rich’s spear smote⁵ right through Nigel Blount’s body. Martin heard the lad’s scream, saw him twist like a puppet on a wire, and tumble backwards⁶, dragging the point of Rich’s spear to the ground. The riders swept around Mellis; she seemed to sink out of sight in the thick of the crowd.
 
Martin Valliant awoke. He uttered a great cry, and rushed toward the little turret⁷ where the stairway opened upon the leads. As he reached it Peter Swartz caught him by the sword belt.
 
“Stay, you fool!”
 
Martin tried to thrust him off, but Swartz kept his hold.
 
“No, no, my friend, knock my teeth out if it pleases you, but if your head’s on fire mine had better do the thinking.”
 
“Let go, man.”
 
“And see you rush out there and be ridden down and spitted like that poor popinjay! Thirty to one are heavy odds⁸, Martin Valliant.”
 
“Let go, curse you.”
 
“And hold on, say I. Listen to reason, man, and use your wits. You’ll not help that girl by getting yourself killed.”
 
“The strength of God is in me.”
 
“And the brains of a sheep! The game is not lost and won yet, but it will be if you go rushing out like a mad bull. Cunning, man—cunning and patience.”
 
Martin stood irresolute⁹, his eyes full of wrath¹⁰ and yearning¹¹.
 
“If I must die, I’ll die now, Swartz.”
 
“Oh, good fool, set your teeth and bide¹² your time! It is no time for dying. What use would a dead man be to the child out yonder? Set your teeth, Martin Valliant; play the grim dog who can watch and wait.”
 
He laid his arm across Martin’s shoulders and drew him aside.
 
“Why, man, I’m with you, and you will thank me to-morrow for this. And here are we squabbling and scuffling when we should be watching like hawks¹³. Come—we must match John Rich for cunning.”
 
Martin Valliant surrendered, but he covered his face with his sword-arm and stood shaking like a man with the ague.
 
Meanwhile John Rich was riding back at his leisure, the bridle¹⁴ of Mellis’s horse over his wrist. Ten of his men had gone in pursuit of the foresters from Bloody¹⁵ Rood, and two more had dismounted, taken young Blount’s body by the heels, and were dragging it down to the mere¹⁶. John Rich brought his horse close to the bridge-head, and his trumpeter blew a summons.
 
“A parley¹⁸, Valliant.”
 
Martin straightened himself, with a sudden shining of the eyes. He saw Mellis sitting her horse beside John Rich, pale, motionless, tragically¹⁹ calm. She looked up toward the tower, and Martin fancied that she smiled; he felt that his heart would break for her.
 
“If they would take me and let her go!”
 
Swartz scoffed²⁰ at his madness.
 
“My Lord of Troy is no honey-pot, to catch flies and let them escape as they please. Have nothing to say to John Rich; let him blow his trumpet¹⁷ till the fellow’s cheeks burst.”
 
Martin stood forward, resting his hands on the pommel of his sword. John Rich hailed him.
 
“Hallo, there! Come down and open the gate. The game is played out.”
 
Martin Valliant’s eyes were fixed²¹ on Mellis’s face. He was wondering whether she despised him for not rushing out to strike a blow for her—whether she thought him a coward. Swartz had crouched²² down behind the wall, and was watching Martin narrowly.
 
“Steady, brother. That child has brave eyes and a fine heart. She will understand. Tell Rich to go to the devil.”
 
Martin stood like a statue, and Rich bellowed²³ again:
 
“Have done with this fooling. Will you give us the place, or are we to take it?”
 
Martin was waiting for something, and that something came. He saw Mellis raise her head proudly; he saw her mouth open; her voice reached out to him across the water:
 
“Stand fast, Martin Valliant!”
 
He raised the cross of his sword and kissed it as a sign to her.
 
“To the death!” he called to her.
 
And John Rich, accepting the defiance²⁴, turned his horse and rode back with Mellis to the beech wood.
 
Now John Rich was a man of method. He posted a guard of ten men to cover the bridge, and two more to ............