Indeed Hugh's tale of that
horrible and treacherous slaughter was so moving that the Duke burst
into tears and swore that he would cut the throat of every Frenchman on
whom he could lay hands.
After this he began to extol the merits of the cross-bow as against the
long arm of the English, and Hugh agreed that there was much in what he
said. But Grey Dick, who was no courtier, did not agree. Indeed, of a
sudden he broke in, offering in his bad French to fight any cross-bow
man in Genoa at six score yards, so that the Duke might learn which was
the better weapon. But Hugh trod on his foot and explained that he meant
something quite different, being no master of the French tongue. So that
cloud passed by.
The end of it was that this Duke, or Doge, whose name they learned was
Simon Boccanera, gave them safe conduct through all his dominion, with
an order for relays of horses. Also he made use of them to take a letter
to the Doge of Venice, between which town and Genoa, although they hated
each other bitterly, there was at the moment some kind of hollow truce.
So having drunk a cup of wine with him they bade him farewell.
Next morning the horses arrived, and with them two led beasts to carry
their baggage, in charge of a Genoese guide. So they departed on their
long ride of something over two hundred English miles, which they hoped
to cover in about a week.
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