eel. So he
affronting and she caught up stood together, for a moment. With one
mailed hand he held her fast under the armpit, with the other he held a
fidgety sword. His head was thrown back; through glimmering eyelids he
watched them--as one who says, What next?--breathing short through his
nose. It was the attitude of the snatching lion, sudden, arrogant,
shockingly swift; a gross deed, done in a flash which was its wonderful
beauty. While the company was panting at the shock--for barely a
minute--he stood thus; and Jehane, quiet under so fierce a hold, leaned
not upon him, but stood her own feet fairly, her calm brows upon a level
with his chin. Shameful if it was, at that moment of rude conquest she
had no shame, and he no thought of shame.

Nor was there much time for thought at all. Gurdun cried on the name of
God and started forward; at the same instant Saint-Pol made a rush, and
with him Des Barres. Richard, with Jehane held close, went backwards on
the way he had come in. His long arm and long sword kept his distance;
he worked them like a scythe. None tackled him there, though they
followed him up as dogs a boar in the forest; but old Gurdun, the
father, ran round the other way to hold the west door. Richard, having
gained the nave and open country (as it were), went swiftly down it,
carrying Jehane with ease; he found the strenuous old man before the
door. 'Out of my way, De Gurdun,' he cried in a high singing voice, 'or
I shall do that which I shall be sorry for.'

'Bloody thief,' shouted old Gurdun, 'add murder to the rest!' Richard
stretched his sword arm stiffly and swept him aside. He tumbled back;
the crowd received him--priests, choristers, peasants, knights, all
huddled together, baying like dogs. Count Richard strode down the
steps.

'Alavi! Alavia!' sang Gaston, 'this is a swift marriage!' Richard,
cooler than circumstances warranted, set Jehane on his saddle, vaulted
up behind her, and as his pursuers were tumbling down the steps,
cantered over the flags into the street. Roussillon and Beziers, holding
the bridge, saw him come. 'He has snatched his Sabine woman,' said
Beziers. 'Humph,' said Roussillon; 'now for beastly war.' Richard rode
straight between them at a hand-gallop; Gaston followed close, cheering
his beast like a maniac. Then the iron pair turned inwards and rode out
together, taking the way he led them, the way of the Dark Tower.

The wonder of Gisors was all dismay when it was lea