A knight, whose dress sufficiently betokened his rank, now approached; and after ordering his men to keep a secure hold upon the prisoner:
“So, scoundrel!" said he, "we know one another of old: you are the ruffian that, in the forest near Wynandael, killed one of Messire de Chatillon's men-at-arms, and even went so far in your insolence as to threaten us knights with your knife; and now I find you murdering one of my best soldiers on my own ground. But you shall have your reward; this very day shall you be gibbeted upon the castle wall, that your friends in Bruges may see you dangling, and know what comes of rebellion."
"You belie me foully," exclaimed Breydel; "I have killed my opponent in fair fight and in selfdefense; and only give me fair play, and I will show you the same over again."
"You dared to insult the royal banner of France—"
"I spoke up for our own Black Lion, and so I will do while breath is left me. But come, either lift me up or finish me at once; don't let me lie here like a slaughtered ox."
At a word from St. Pol, the soldiers raised their prisoner from the ground, but without, for a moment, loosening their hold, and cautiously led him to the door. Breydel walked slowly and quietly along, two of the strongest of his captors holding him by the arms, and as many closely preceding and following him, so as to render resistance useless and escape impossible; and many a taunt had he to listen to the while from the soldiers who guarded him.
"Be easy, my fine fellow!" cried one; "show us a brisk dance upon nothing to-morrow, and we will keep the ravens from you afterward."
Breydel answered only by a look of withering scorn.
"If you dare to look at me so, you accursed Claward," cried the soldier, "I will give it you across the face."
"Coward Frenchmen!" retorted Breydel; "that is ever your way—to insult your enemy when he is in your power, base hirelings of a despicable master!"
A blow on the cheek from the soldier next him was the reply. Breydel ceased to speak, and bowed his head upon his chest, as though utterly cast down; but in truth his spirit burned within him all the while, like the fire which smolders deep in the bosom of a slumbering volcano. The soldiers, however, misinterpreted his silence, and jeered him all the more bitterly now that he answered them not a word.
Just at the moment, however, that they were about to step upon the drawbridge, their laughter suddenly ceased, and their faces became pale with terror. Breydel had suddenly collected all his strength, and extricated his arms from their grasp. Like a panther, he sprang upon the two soldiers who had been the most forward in jeering him, and like the wild beast's jaws his iron fingers clutched their throats.
"For you. Lion of Flanders, will I die!" he cried; "but not on a gallows, and not unrevenged."
And as he spoke, so fiercely did he grasp the throats of his two foes, that in a moment they hung senseless in his hands; then dashing their heads together with such violence that the blow reechoed from the castle walls, with one tremendous throw he cast them from him helpless upon the earth.
This feat of strength and energy was the work of less time than it has taken to describe it; and for a moment the surprise so paralyzed the whole party that Breydel gained time for flight, and was already at some distance from his enemies before they had fully recovered their senses. The soldiers were soon in pursuit of him, however, with shouts and curses; and the chase was vigorously kept up, till at last he succeeded, by a tremendous leap, in putting a wide ditch between himself and his pursuers, of whom only two were bold enough to follow him. On reaching the ditch, and attempting to cross, both fell into the water, and the pursuit was thereupon at an end. Without further molestation, the courageous Butcher returned to the city, and arrived safely at his own home.
On entering the house, Breydel found, to his astonishment, that no one was wuthin except a young journeyman, who was himself just in the act of going forth.
"What is this? Where are my men?" he cried impatiently.
''Well, master," answered the youth, "they are all gone to our hall; a hasty message came to tell us that we were all to meet there."
"What is going on, then?"
"I don't rightly know, master; but this morning the city crier read a proclamation of the magistrates, enjoining all citizens who live by work or trade to pay every Saturday so much of their week's earnings to the tax-gatherers; and we suppose that this is the reason why the Dean of the Clothworkers has ordered all the trades to assemble at their halls."
"Stay you and shut up the shop," said Breydel, "and tell my mother not to be alarmed if I should not come home to-night; most probably I shall not."
He took his ax from where it hung, hid it under his gown, and was soon at the hall of his Guild, where his entrance was immediately greeted by a general murmur of satisfaction.
"Here is Breydel! here is
