t was that a little, wiry, gray
man leaped agilely from the kitchen doorway, and with drawn sword took
his place beside the boy. It was now two against three and the three may
have guessed, though they never knew, that they were pitted against the
two greatest swordsmen in the world.

"To the death," cried the little gray man, "a mort, mon fils." Scarcely
had the words left his lips ere, as though it had but waited permission,
the boy's sword flashed into the heart of Paul of Merely, and a Saxon
gentleman was gathered to his fathers.

The old man engaged Greystoke now, and the boy turned his undivided
attention to Beauchamp. Both these men were considered excellent
swordsmen, but when Beauchamp heard again the little gray man's "a mort,
mon fils," he shuddered, and the little hairs at the nape of his neck
rose up, and his spine froze, for he knew that he had heard the sentence
of death passed upon him; for no mortal had yet lived who could vanquish
such a swordsman as he who now faced him.

As Beauchamp pitched forward across a bench, dead, the little old man
led Greystoke to where the boy awaited him.

"They are thy enemies, my son, and to thee belongs the pleasure of
revenge; a mort, mon fils."

Greystoke was determined to sell his life dearly, and he rushed the lad
as a great bull might rush a teasing dog, but the boy gave back not
an inch and, when Greystoke stopped, there was a foot of cold steel
protruding from his back.

Together they buried the knights at the bottom of the dry moat at the
back of the ruined castle. First they had stripped them and, when they
took account of the spoils of the combat, they found themselves richer
by three horses with full trappings, many pieces of gold and silver
money, ornaments and jewels, as well as the lances, swords and chain
mail armor of their erstwhile guests.

But the greatest gain, the old man thought to himself, was that the
knowledge of the remarkable resemblance between his ward and Prince
Edward of England had come to him in time to prevent the undoing of his
life's work.

The boy, while young, was tall and broad shouldered, and so the old
man had little difficulty in fitting one of the suits of armor to
him, obliterating the devices so that none might guess to whom it had
belonged. This he did, and from then on the boy never rode abroad except
in armor, and when he met others upon the high road, his visor was
always lowered that none might see his face.