Melite smiled as she sang; for this was a song that Adhelmar had made for
her upon a May morning at Nointel, before he was a knight, when both were
very young. So now she smiled to remember the making of the verses which
she sang while the October rain was beating about Puysange.


5. _Night-work_

It was not long before they came upon d'Andreghen and his men camped
about a great oak, with One-eyed Peire a-swing over their heads for a
lamentable banner. A shrill sentinel, somewhere in the dark, demanded the
newcomers' business, but without receiving any adequate answer, for at
that moment Adhelmar gave the word to charge.

Then it was as if all the devils in Pandemonium had chosen Normandy for
their playground; and what took place in the night no man saw for the
darkness, so that I cannot tell you of it. Let it suffice that Adhelmar
rode away before d'Andreghen had rubbed sleep well out of his eyes; and
with Adhelmar were Hugues d'Arques and some half of Adhelmar's men. The
rest were dead, and Adhelmar was badly hurt, for he had burst open his
old wound and it was bleeding under his armor. Of this he said nothing.

"Hugues," said he, "do you and these fellows ride to the coast; thence
take ship for England."

He would have none of Hugues' thanks; instead, he turned and left Hugues
to whimper out his gratitude to the skies, which spat a warm, gusty rain
at him. Adhelmar rode again to Puysange, and as he went he sang.