“Nay,” said Ralph, “they have done well with their shooting, let them rest.  As to my thrusting my sword through the man, Captain, I had done that before, had I been so minded.  At any rate, I will ask him if he will serve me truly.  Otherwise he seemeth a strong carle and a handy.  How sayest thou, lad, did I take thee fairly?” “Yea,” said the man, “thou art a strong lad.”

He seemed to fear the swords about him but little, and forsooth he was a warrior-like man, and not ill-looking.  He was of middle height, strong and well-knit, with black hair like a beast’s mane for shagginess, and bright blue eyes.  He was clad in a short coat of grey homespun, with an ox-skin habergeon laced up over it; he had neither helm nor hat, nor shoes, but hosen made of a woollen clout tied about his legs; his shield of wood and ox-hide lay on the ground a few paces off, and his hammer beside it, which he had dropped when Ralph first handled him, but a great ugly knife was still girt to him.

Now Ralph saith to him:  “Which wilt thou—­be slain, or serve me?” Said the carle, grinning, yet not foully:  “Guess if I would not rather serve thee!” “Wilt thou serve me truly?” said Ralph.  “Why not?” quoth the carle:  “yet I warn thee that if thou beat me, save in hot blood, I shall put a knife into thee when I may.”

“O,” said one, “thrust him through now at once, lord Ralph.”  “Nay, I will not,” said Ralph; “he hath warned me fairly.  Maybe he will serve me truly.  Master Clement, wilt thou lend me a horse for my man to ride?” “Yea,” said Clement; “yet I misdoubt me of thy new squire.”  Then he turned to the men-at-arms and said:  “No tarrying, my masters!  To horse and away before they gather gain!”

So they mounted and rode away from that valley of the pass, and Ralph made his man ride beside him.  But the man said to him, as soon as they were riding:  “Take note that I will not fight against my kindred.”  “None biddeth thee so,” said Ralph; “but do thou take heed that if thou fight against us I will slay thee outright.”  Said the man:  “A fair bargain!” “Well,” said Ralph, “I will have thy knife of thee, lest it tempt thee, as is the wont of cold iron, and a maiden’s body.”  “Nay, master,” quoth the man, “leave me my knife, as thou art a good fellow.  In two hours time we shall be past all peril of my people, and when we come down below I will slay thee as many as thou wilt, so it be out of the kindred.  Forsooth down there evil they be, and unkinsome.”

“So be it, lad,” said Ralph, laughing, “keep thy knife; but hang this word of mine thereon, that if thou slay any man of this fellowship save me, I will rather flay thee alive than slay thee.”  Quoth the carle:  “That is the bargain, then, and I yeasay it.”  “Good,” said Ralph; “now tell me thy name.”  “Bull Shockhead,” said the carle.

But now the fellowship took to riding so fast down the slopes of the mountains on a far better road, that talking together was not easy.  They kept good watch, both behind and ahead, nor were they set upon again, though whiles they saw clumps of men on the hill-sides.