every man who could keep his saddle, and made for the Bridge, the Dry Tree thundering at their backs.  But even as they came within bowshot, a great flight of arrows came from the further side of the water, and the banner of the Fruitful Tree came forth from the bridge-end with Nicholas and his tried men-at-arms behind it; and then indeed great and grim was the murder, and the proud men of the Burg grovelled on the ground and prayed for mercy till neither the Champions nor the men of Nicholas could smite helpless men any longer.

Now had Ralph held his hand from the chase, and he was sitting on a mound amidst of the meadow under an ancient thorn, and beside him sat the Sage of Swevenham and Ursula.  And she was grown pale now and looked somewhat scared, and she spake in a trembling voice to Ralph, and said:  “Alas friend! that this should be so grim!  When we hear the owls a-nighttime about the High House, shall we not deem at whiles that it is the ghosts of this dreadful battle and slaughter wandering about our fair fields?” But Ralph spake sternly and wrathfully as he sat there bareheaded and all unarmed save for the ancient glaive:  “Why did they not slay me then?  Better the ghosts of robbers in our fields by night, than the over-burdened hapless thrall by day, and the scourged woman, and ruined child.  These things they sought for us and have found death on the way—­ let it be!”

He laughed as he spake; but then the grief of the end of battle came upon him and he trembled and shook, and great tears burst from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, and he became stark and hard-faced.

Then Ursula took his hands and caressed them, and kissed his face, and fell a-talking to him of how they rode the pass to the Valley of Sweet Chestnuts; and in a while his heart and his mind came back to him as it did that other time of which she spake, and he kissed her in turn, and began to tell her of his old chamber in the turret of the High House.

And now there come riding across the field two warriors.  They draw rein by the mound, and one lights down, and lo! it is Long Nicholas; and he took Ralph in his arms, and kissed him and wept over him for all his grizzled beard and his gaunt limbs; but few words he had for him, save this:  “My little Lord, was it thou that was the wise captain to-day, or this stout lifter and reiver!” But the other man was Stephen a-Hurst, who laughed and said:  “Nay, Nicholas, I was the fool, and this stripling the wise warrior.  But, Lord Ralph, thou wilt pardon me, I hope, but we could not kill them all, for they would not fight in any wise; what shall we do with them?” Ralph knit his brows and thought a little; then he said:  “How many hast thou taken?” Said Stephen:  “Some two hundred alive.”  “Well,” quoth Ralph; “strip them of all armour and weapons, and let a score of thy riders drive them back the way they came into the Debateable Wood.  But give them this last word from me, that or long I shall clear the said wood of all strong-thieves.”