Here he called something aloud, and presently two men appeared rowing a large, flat-bottomed punt from a dock where it was hidden.  Into this boat the horses and pack-beast were driven, much against their will.  Hugh and Dick having followed them, the three Italians began to punt them along the canal, which was bordered with tall houses.  A mile or so farther on it entered another canal, where the houses were much finer and built in a style of which they had never seen the like, with beautiful and fantastic arches supported upon pillars.

At length to their great joy they came opposite to a house over the gateway of which, stirless in the still air, hung a flag whereon were blazoned the leopards of England.  Here the boatmen, pulling in their poles, save one to which they made the punt fast in mid-stream, showed by their gestures that they desired to be paid.  Hugh handed the piece of gold to the man who had led them to the boat, whereon he was seized with a fit of uncontrollable fury.  He swore, he raved, he took the piece of gold and cast it down on the bilge-boards, he spat on it and his two companions did likewise.

“Surely they are mad,” said Hugh.

“Mad or no, I like not the looks of them,” answered Dick.  “Have a care, they are drawing their knives,” and as he spoke one of the rogues struck him in the face; while another strove to snatch away the pouch that hung at his side.

Now Grey Dick awoke, as it were.  To the man who had tried to take his pouch he dealt such a buffet that he plunged into the canal.  But him who had struck him he seized by the arm and twisted it till the knife fell from his hand.  Then gripping his neck in an iron grasp he forced him downward and rubbed his nose backward and forward upon the rough edge of the boat, for the Italian was but as a child to him when he put out his strength.

In vain did his victim yell for mercy.  He showed him none, till at length wearying of the game, he dealt him such a kick that he also flew over the thwarts to join his fellow-bully in the water.

Then seeing how it had gone with his companions who, sorely damaged, swam to the farther side of the canal and vanished, the third man, he whom they had first met, sheathed his knife.  With many bows and cringes he pulled up the pole and pushed the punt to the steps of the house over which the flag hung, where people were gathering, drawn by the clamour.

“Does Sir Geoffrey Carleon dwell here?” asked Hugh in a loud voice, whereon a gentleman with a pale face and a grizzled beard who appeared to be sick, for he was leaning on a staff, hobbled from out the porch, saying: 

“Ay, ay, that is my name.  Who are you that make this tumult at my gates?  Another turbulent Englishman, I’ll be bound.”

“Ay, sir, an Englishman called Sir Hugh de Cressi, and his companion, Richard the Archer, whom these rogues have tried to rob and murder, messengers from his Grace King Edward.”