" 'He slumbers now; the Gallic Philip
Can his free limbs with chains oppress, While robber-bands of foreign hirelings
The Lion's fatherland possess. But when he wakes—O, then, ye robbers,
Then shall ye feel the Lion's claw! Then shall in mud and blood your Lily
Lie low beneath his mighty paw!'
There! now ask what that means!"
The sense of the verse was explained to Leroux, who immediately rose, thrust his seat hastily back, filled his drinking-cup to the brim, and exclaimed:
"Call me a coward my life long, if I don't break your neck, if you speak another word!"
"What, you think I am to be silenced by you?" answered Breydel, with a scornful laugh. "Not by all the like of you unhung; and to show you— here's to the Black Lion! and a fig for the French!"
"Comrades!" cried Leroux, trembling with rage, "leave this Flemish dog to me! he shall die by my hand!"
And advancing toward Breydel, he shouted at him: "You lie! the Lily forever!"
"Liar yourself! and the Black Lion forever!" retorted Breydel.
"Come on!" pursued the Frenchman. "You are strong enough: but I will show you that it is another Lion than yours that must tread down the Lily! Come on, and to the death!"
"With all my heart, and the sooner the better. It's a real pleasure to me to have to do with a brave enemy; it's worth all the trouble!"
No sooner were the words uttered than they left the house, and straightway proceeded to seek out a convenient place for the encounter. This was soon found, and stepping a few paces apart, the two adversaries made their preparations for the fight. Breydel first took his knife from his girdle and threw it from him, then stripped up his sleeves to the shoulders, laying bare his sinewy arms, the sight of which jtruck with amazement the soldiers who were standing by. Leroux, too, threw from him his sword and dagger, and so remained totally unarmed; then turning to his comrades, he said:
"Mind, come what will, let there be fair play! He's a brave fellow, this Fleming!"
"Are you ready?" cried Breydel.
"Ready!" was the answer.
The word was given, and the combatants advanced upon each other, their heads thrown back, their eyes flashing, their brows knit, their lips and teeth forcibly pressed together; like two furious bulls they rushed upon each other.
A heavy blow resounded upon either breast, as of hammer upon anvil, and both reeled backward from the shock, which, however, did but inflame their rage the more. A short deep growl mingled with their heavy breathing, and with their arms they seized each other round the body as in a vise of steel. Every limb was strained to the uttermost, every nerve quivered, every muscle was in play; their veins swelled, their eyes became bloodshot, their brows from red grew purple, and from purple livid; but neither could win upon the other by an inch of ground; one would have said their feet were rooted where they stood.
After some time spent in this desperate struggle, the Frenchman suddenly made a step backward, twined his arms round Breydel's neck, and taking a firm purchase forced the Fleming's head forward and downward so as in some degree to disturb his balance; then, following up his advantage without the loss of a moment, Leroux made yet another efifort with increased energy, and Breydel sank on one knee beneath the overpowering attack.
"The Lion is on his knees already!" cried the
French champion, triumphantly, dealing at the same time a blow on the head of the butcher that might have felled an ox, and wellnigh laid him prostrate on the ground. But to do this with effect, he had been obliged to release Breydel with one hand, and, at the very moment that he was raising his fist to repeat the blow, the latter extricated himself from the single grasp which held him, rose from the ground, and retreated some few paces; then rushing upon his adversary with the speed of lightning, he seized him round the body with a hug like that of a forest bear, so that every rib cracked again. The Frenchman, in his turn, wound his limbs about his foe with a terrible vigor, strengthened by practise and directed by skill, so that the Fleming felt his knees bend beneath him, and again they nearly touched the ground.
An unwonted sensation stole into Breydel's heart, as though for the first time in his life it had begun to fail him. The thought was madness; but even like madness, it gave him strength; suddenly loosening his hold, and again retreating, at the same time lowering his head, like a furious bull he rushed upon Leroux, and butted him in the chest, before the Frenchman could foresee, much less provide against this new attack. Reeling under the shock, blood burst from his nose, mouth, and ears; while at the same moment, like a stone from a catapult, the Fleming's fist descended upon his skull; with a long cry he fell heavily to the earth, and all was over.
"Now you feel the Lion's claws!" cried the Fleming.
The soldiers who had been witnesses of the conflict had indeed encouraged the French champion by their shouts; but had rigorously abstained from any further interference. They now crowded about their dying comrade, and raised him in their arms; while Breydel, with slow and deliberate steps, retired from the ground, and made his way back to the room where the quarrel had begun. Here he called for another stoup of beer, from which he hastily and repeatedly drank to quench his burning thirst.
He had now been sitting there some time, and was beginning to recover himself from the fatigue of the combat, when the door opened behind him; and before he could turn his head, he was seized
