"
A knight who rode in front, and was the leader, came close to Gilbert.
He was a man not young, with a dark, smooth face, as finely cut as a
relief carved upon a shell, and his hair was short and iron-grey.
Gilbert told him what had happened in the woods, and the elderly knight
listened quietly and thoughtfully, while examining Gilbert's face with
half-unconscious keenness.
"If you please," said the young man, "I will lead you by the way I have
ridden, and you may enter the bushes from above, and fight at better
advantage."
But the Florentine smiled at such simple tactics. To feel the breeze,
he held up his right hand, which issued from a slit in the wrist of his
mail, so that the iron mitten hung loose; and the wind was blowing
toward the woods. He called to his squire.
"Take ten men, light torches, and set fire to those young trees."
The men got a cook's earthenware pot of coals, fed all day long with
charcoal on the march, lest there should be no fire for the camp at
night; and they lit torches of pitched hemp-rope, and presently there
was a great smoke and a crackling of green branches. But the leader of
the Florentines put on his steel cap and drew the mail hood down over
his shoulders, while all the others who were bareheaded did the same.
"Sir," said the knight to Gilbert, "you should withdraw behind us, now
that you have done us this great service. For presently there will be
fighting here, and you are unmailed."
"The weather is overwarm for an iron coat," answered Gilbert, with a
laugh.
Pages:
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132