But how he bled!--Saint Christopher! that is the worst of bulky men, they can do nothing featly--not even die! One man won past me, indeed, darting under the stroke of my axe, but he was little advantaged thereby.

For I fetched a blow at the back of his head with the handle which brought him to his knees.

He stumbled and fell at the threshold of the maids' chamber.

And, by my sooth, the Lady Ysolinde stooped and poignarded him as featly as though it had been a work of broidering with a bodkin.

Too late, Helene wept and besought her to hold her hand.