rved by Rodolph, who immediately
despatched a page to watch his movements. When informed of his young
friend's danger, he arose and cried in a loud voice:

"Gentlemen, we would not have you meddle in this affray: a party of my
men have gone for their arms, and it will speedily be terminated. But
the son of Albert de Hers is now overpowered by these boors. Let some
one hasten to his rescue!"

Three young knights at once dismounted and passed out: the foremost bore
in his crest a long dark plume.

The generous soldiers, who had hitherto received upon their defenceless
bodies the blows aimed at Gilbert, were almost all beaten down, and in a
few minutes more he would have been exposed comparatively unaided to the
fury of the populace. His sword was shivered to the hilt, and though he
drove back a giant who attempted to close with him, by dashing the guard
in his face, he must have fallen beneath a club that swung over his
head, had not a tall knight, completely clad in armor, striding before
him, intercepted the blow, and dashed the assailant to the earth. A
shower of blows saluted the youth's deliverer, but he bore them
unflinching, and, vigorously plying his two-handed sword, cleared a
space around the exhausted Gilbert. The two other knights arriving at
this moment, the contest became more equal. But the mob were now
displaying deadlier weapons, and Rodolph reluctantly resolved to
command his chivalry to disperse the rabble, when his soldiers arrived
with their arms. Inflamed by the loss of their comrades, the now
formidable troops threw themselves upon the citizens, and pursued them
with great slaughter to their homes. When the knights were left without
an enemy, Gilbert advanced to embrace his deliverer. But the knight of
the black plume stepped back a pace, and raising his visor, disclosed
the features of Henry of Stramen, cold, haughty, and showing just the
traces of a smile of disdain.

Gladly at that moment would Gilbert have fallen into his arms and
entreated him to forget the past; but there were too many eyes to
witness a repulse. He contented himself by saying:

"Sir, you have preserved my life, and with the grace of God you shall
not repent it."

Henry made no reply, and they parted.

Gilbert was far too generous to regret an incident which laid him under
such deep obligations to Henry of Stramen. He rejoiced that it had
occurred, for it might remove the mortification produced by their late
encounter,