I do not hold it against all comers. I
hold it but against one, and he is a liar and a traitor."
"As the matter concerns me not, I pray you let me pass," said Gottfried.
"The matter DOES concern thee, Gottfried of Godesberg. Liar and traitor!
art thou coward, too?"
"Holy Saint Buffo! 'tis a fight!" exclaimed the old hermit (who, too,
had been a gallant warrior in his day); and like the old war-horse that
hears the trumpet's sound, and spite of his clerical profession, he
prepared to look on at the combat with no ordinary eagerness, and
sat down on the overhanging ledge of the rock, lighting his pipe, and
affecting unconcern, but in reality most deeply interested in the event
which was about to ensue.
As soon as the word "coward" had been pronounced by Sir Ludwig, his
opponent, uttering a curse far too horrible to be inscribed here, had
wheeled back his powerful piebald, and brought his lance to the rest.
"Ha! Beauseant!" cried he. "Allah humdillah!" 'Twas the battle-cry in
Palestine of the irresistible Knights Hospitallers. "Look to thyself,
Sir Knight, and for mercy from heaven! I will give thee none."
"A Bugo for Katzenellenbogen!" exclaimed Sir Ludwig, piously: that, too,
was the well-known war-cry of his princely race.
"I will give the signal," said the old hermit, waving his pipe.
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