about here from chalk to sand, so that our horses' hoofs did but make a
dull subdued rattle, which was no bar to our talk--or rather to my
companion's, for I did little more than listen. In truth, my mind was
so full of anticipations of what was before us, and of thoughts of the
home behind, that I was in no humour for sprightly chatter. The sky was
somewhat clouded, but the moon glinted out between the rifts, showing us
the long road which wound away in front of us. On either side were
scattered houses with gardens sloping down toward the road. The heavy,
sickly scent of strawberries was in the air.

'Hast ever slain a man in anger?' asked Saxon, as we galloped along.

'Never,' I answered.

'Ha! You will find that when you hear the clink of steel against steel,
and see your foeman's eyes, you will straightway forget all rules,
maxims, and precepts of the fence which your father or others may have
taught you.'

'I have learned little of the sort,' said I. My father did but teach me
to strike an honest downright blow. This sword can shear through a
square inch of iron bar.'

'Scanderbeg's sword must have Scanderbeg's arm,' he remarked. 'I have
observed that it is a fine piece of steel. One of the real old
text-compellers and psalm-expounders which the faithful drew in the days
of yore, when they would:

"Prove their religion orthodox,
By Apostolic blows and knocks."