scene, and, in a tone the Norman lads started to hear from him,
exclaimed:

"Let him go; touch him if you dare; he is my foster brother; my
thrall, if anybody's."

"Like cleaves to like," said Etienne, sarcastically; "but, my fair
brother, thou wilt hardly interfere with the due course of the
law."

"Law! the law of butchers and worse than butchers--devils. Let him
go."

"Hadst thou not better try to rescue him? Thou hast not yet found
an opportunity to show thy prowess."

Wilfred lost all control, sprang at Etienne, struck him in a
downright English fashion between the eyes, and knocked him down.
The knife fell from his hand, and Wilfred seized it before the
other youths could recover from their astonishment, and flung it
into a pond close at hand.

Etienne rose up.

Now my young readers will probably anticipate a bout at fisticuffs;
but no such vulgar a combat commended itself to the proud young
Norman, even thus suddenly humiliated; neither did he, under these
very trying circumstances, lose his self command.

Yet his hatred was none the less, nor did he cherish a less deadly