lightly and fiercely down the stair.

There he saw three foul churls, whereof two strove with
the miller, beating him with great clubs, while the third
would master the Maid and drag her away to do her shame, but
she fought shrewdly. Then Martimor rushed upon the churls,
shouting for joy, and there was a great medley of breaking
chairs and tables and cursing and smiting, and with his sword he
gave horrible strokes.

One of the knaves that fought with the miller, he smote
upon the shoulder and clave him to the navel. And at the
other he foined fiercely so that the point of the sword went
through his back and stuck fast in the wall. But the third
knave, that was the biggest and the blackest, and strove to
bear away the Maid, left bold of her, and leaped upon Martimor
and caught him by the middle and crushed him so that his ribs
cracked.

Thus they weltered and wrung together, and now one of them
was above and now the other; and ever as they wallowed
Martimor smote him with his dagger, but there came forth no
blood, only water.

Then the black churl broke away from him and ran out at
the door of the mill, and Martimor after. So they ran through
the garden to the river, and there the churl sprang into the
water, and swept away raging and foaming. And as he went he
shouted, "Yet will I put thee to the worse, and mar the Mill,
and have the Maid!"'