’Said Hugh of a sudden, “Hark!” At first we thought it was the buzzing of the glittering flies on the water; but it grew loud and fierce, so that all men heard.’

‘What?’ said Dan and Una.

‘It was the Sword.’  Sir Richard patted the smooth hilt.  ’It sang as a Dane sings before battle.  “I go,” said Hugh, and he leaped from the bows and fell among the gold.  I was afraid to my four bones’ marrow, but for shame’s sake I followed, and Thorkild of Borkum leaped after me.  None other came.  “Blame me not,” cried Witta behind us, “I must abide by my ship.”  We three had no time to blame or praise.  We stooped to the gold and threw it back over our shoulders, one hand on our swords and one eye on the tree, which nigh overhung us.

’I know not how the Devils leaped down, or how the fight began.  I heard Hugh cry:  “Out! out!” as though he were at Santlache again; I saw Thorkild’s steel cap smitten off his head by a great hairy hand, and I felt an arrow from the ship whistle past my ear.  They say that till Witta took his sword to the rowers he could not bring his ship inshore; and each one of the four archers said afterwards that he alone had pierced the Devil that fought me.  I do not know.  I went to it in my mail-shirt, which saved my skin.  With long-sword and belt-dagger I fought for the life against a Devil whose very feet were hands, and who whirled me back and forth like a dead branch.  He had me by the waist, my arms to my side, when an arrow from the ship pierced him between the shoulders, and he loosened grip.  I passed my sword twice through him, and he crutched himself away between his long arms, coughing and moaning.  Next, as I remember, I saw Thorkild of Borkum, bare-headed and smiling, leaping up and down before a Devil that leaped and gnashed his teeth.  Then Hugh passed, his sword shifted to his left hand, and I wondered why I had not known that Hugh was a left-handed man; and thereafter I remembered nothing till I felt spray on my face, and we were in sunshine on the open sea.  That was twenty days after.’

’What had happened?  Did Hugh die?’the children asked.

‘Never was such a fight fought by christened man,’ said Sir Richard.  ’An arrow from the ship had saved me from my Devil, and Thorkild of Borkum had given back before his Devil, till the bowmen on the ship could shoot it all full of arrows from near by; but Hugh’s Devil was cunning, and had kept behind trees, where no arrow could reach.  Body to body there, by stark strength of sword and hand, had Hugh slain him, and, dying, the Thing had clenched his teeth on the sword.  Judge what teeth they were!’

Sir Richard turned the sword again that the children might see the two great chiselled gouges on either side of the blade.