THE COUNT OF BRITTANY. 145

But no sooner did the Saracens perceive that the
immediate danger was over, than they turned round,
and, keeping at a safe distance, yelled out defiance.

‘Heed them not, seneschad,’ said the Count of
Soilssons, who, in the midst of peril, retained all
the gaiety of soul which distinguished the French
chevaliers from the thoughtful Saxon, and the
haughty and somewhat grim Norman. ‘ Heed them
not. Let this rascal canaille bawl and bray as the
please. By St Denis, you and I will live to
talk of this day’s exploits in the chambers of our
ladies.’ 3
‘May God and good St. James grant it,’ said
Joinville, gravely.

‘But who comes hither, and in such a plight ?’
asked the Count of Soissons, suddenly, as a Crusader,
mounted on a strong horse, came galloping from the
direction of Mansourah—his face wounded, blood
gushing from his mouth, the reins of his bridle cut,
and his hands resting, as if for support, on his
charger’s neck.

‘In truth,’ replied Joinville, after examining the
horseman, ‘it is the Count of Brittany ;’ as, closely
pursued by Saracens, the wounded warrior gained
the bridge, and ever and anon turned round and
shouted mockingly to his pursuers.

‘By St Denis,’ exclaimed the count, ‘one thing
is certain: he is not afraid of hig pursuers.’

And almost as the Count of Soissons spoke, the
Count of Brittany was followed by two warriors, who
made their way through the Saracens, literally
smiting to the earth all who came in their wav.