The blow caught Hugh on the skull and down he fell, his mail clattering on the stones, and lay still.

With a whine of rage, Grey Dick leapt at Clavering, drawing from his side the archer's axe he always wore.

But old Sir Andrew caught and held him in his arms.
"Vengeance is God's, not ours," he said.

"Look!" As he spoke Sir John began to sway to and fro.

He let fall his murdering sword, he pressed his hands upon his heart, he threw them high.