ery dry) a
league away. He sent Barthelemy and another to waken any that slept, and
bade all be ready at a word.

Now there came shouts on the wind, cries of venerie, loud laughter, and
snatches of songs.

And now, up in my perch, I myself broke into a laugh at that I saw.

"Silence, fool!" whispered Xaintrailles. "Why laugh you, in the name of
Behemoth?"

"The Burgundians are hunting hares," I whispered; "they are riding all
disorderly, some on the road, some here and there about the plain. One
man has no lance, another is unhelmeted, many have left their harness
behind with the baggage!" Even as I spoke rose up a great hunting cry,
and a point of the chase was blown on a trumpet. The foremost
Burgundians were spurring like madmen after some beast, throwing at it
with their lances, and soon I saw a fox making our way for its very life.

"To horse," cried Xaintrailles, and, leaving thirty men to hold the
bridge, the whole of our company, with spears in rest, drove down on
these hare-hunters of Burgundy.

Two hundred picked men in all, fully armed, were we, and we scattered the
foremost riders as they had scattered the hares. Saddles were emptied,
archers were cut down or speared ere they could draw bows, the
Burgundians were spurring for their lives, many cried mercy, and were
taken to ransom, of whom I had my share, as I shall tell.

But a few men made a right good end. Thomas Kyriel, a knight of England,
stood to his banner, his archers rallied about it, with three or four
knights of Burgundy. There, unhelmeted for the most part, they chose the
way of honour, but they were of no avail where so many lances were
levelled and so many swords were hewing at so few. There was a great
slaughter, but Geoffrey de Thoisy, nephew to the Bishop of Tournay,
plucked from danger fortune, for he so bore him that he being fully armed
we took him for Messire Antoine de Vienne, a very good knight. For his
courage we spared him, but Antoine, being unhelmeted and unknown, was
smitten on the head by Barthelemy Barrette, with a blow of a casse-tete.

For this Barthelemy made much sorrow, not only that so good a knight was
slain, but that he had lost a great ransom, whereby he should have been a
rich man. Yet such is the fortune of war! Which that day was strangely
seen; for a knight having yielded to me because his horse threw him, and
he lost for a moment all sense with the fall and found my boot on his
neck when he ca