"Truly they are as stout men as I have ever seen fighting. And you have
escaped without a wound, though I marked that your armour and clothes
were covered with mire, as if you had been rolling in the road."
"That is just what I have been doing, Sir John. One of them leaped on
to the horse behind me, and pinioned my arms; while two or three others
made at me, with axes and staves. The clasp of the fellow was like an
iron band and, seeing that my only chance was to rid myself of him, I
slung my leg over my horse, and we came down together, he undermost.
Whether the fall killed him or not, I cannot say, but his arms relaxed.
Half a dozen sprang on me, and in another minute I should have been
killed, had not that big trooper of mine come to my aid, and with a
mighty mace dashed out their brains, well-nigh before they knew that
they were attacked."
"A stout fellow, indeed," Sir John said, "and one I should like to have
to ride behind me, on the day of battle. I had marked him before, and
thought that I had never seen a more stalwart knave; though methinks
that he would look better, did he not crop his hair so wondrously
short."
Oswald laughed.
"He does it not to beautify himself, Sir John, but to hide the fact
that the hair on his crown is but of six weeks' growth.
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