force full in the face of his enemy, the page of Sir Philip, who was
rushing upon him sword in hand. The heavy weapon struck him fairly
between the eyes, and with a cry he fell back, his face completely
smashed in by the blow, the sword which he held uplifted to strike flying
far through the air.

Cuthbert struck his spurs into his horse, and the animal dashed forward
with a bound, Cuthbert striking with his long sword at one or two men who
made a snatch at the reins. In another minute he was cantering out of
the village, convinced that he had killed the leader of his foes, and
that he was safe now to pursue the rest of his journey on to Marseilles.

So it turned out.

Without further incident, he travelled through the south of France, and
arrived at the great seaport. He speedily discovered the quarters in
which the Earl of Evesham's contingent were encamped, and made towards
this without delay. As he entered a wild shout of joy was heard, and Cnut
ran forward with many gestures of delight.

"My dear Cuthbert, my dear Cuthbert!" he exclaimed. "Can it be true that
you have escaped? We all gave you up; and although I did my best, yet had
you not survived it I should never have forgiven myself, believing that I
might have somehow done better, and have saved you from the cut-throats
who attacked us."

"Thanks, thanks, my good Cnut," Cuthbert cried. "I have been through a
time of peril, no doubt; but as you see, I am hale and well--better,
methinks than you are, for you look pale and ill; and I doubt not that
the wound which I received was a mere scratch to that which bore you