could sit upright unassisted, two were supported in
their saddles, and the fourth was carried by his retainers. Thus they
retreated, and apparently without further hurt, for the enemy on the
wall crowded so much together as to interfere with the aim of their
darts, which, too, soon fell short. But there was a dark heap beneath
the wall, where ten or twelve retainers and slaves, who wore no armour,
had been slain or disabled. Upon these the loss invariably fell.

None attempted to follow the retreating party, who slowly returned
towards the camp, and were soon apparently in safety. But suddenly a
fresh party of the enemy appeared upon the wall, and the instant
afterwards three retainers dropped, as if struck by lightning. They had
been hit by sling stones, whirled with great force by practised
slingers. These rounded pebbles come with such impetus as to stun a man
at two hundred yards. The aim, it is true, is uncertain, but where there
is a body of troops they are sure to strike some one. Hastening on,
leaving the three fallen men where they lay, the rest in two minutes
were out of range, and came safely into camp. Everyone, as they crossed
the stream, ran to meet them, the king included, and as he passed in the
throng, Felix heard him remark that they had had a capital main of cocks
that morning.

Of the knights only one was much injured; he had fallen upon a stone,
and two ribs were broken; the rest suffered from severe bruises, but had
no wound. Six men-at-arms were missing, probably prisoners, for, as
courageous as their masters, they had leapt down from the wall into the
town. Eleven other retainers or slaves were slain, or had deserted, or
were prisoners, and no trouble was taken about them. As for the three
who were knocked over by the sling stones, there they lay until they
recovered their senses, when they crawled into camp. This incident
cooled Felix's ardour for the fray, for he reflected that, if injured
thus, he too, as a mere groom, would be left. The devotion of the
retainers to save and succour their masters was almost heroic. The
mailed knights thought no more of their men, unless it was some
particular favourite, than of a hound slashed by a boar's tusk in the
chase.

When the first flush of his excitement had passed, Felix, thinking over
the scene of the morning as he took his horses down to water at the
stream, became filled at first with contempt, and then with indignation.
That the first commande