y they had come, and
Rainouart followed, keeping guard over them with his staff. When they
reached the army he went straight to William, and begged that he might
have the command of them. "I will change them into a troop of lions,"
said he.

Harsh words and gibes greeted the cowards, but Rainouart soon forced
the mockers to silence. "Leave my men alone!" he cried, "or by the
faith I owe to Gibourc I will make you. I am a King's son, and the
time has come to show you what manner of man I am. I have idled long,
but I will idle no longer. I am of the blood royal, and the saying is
true that good blood cannot lie."

"How well he speaks!" whispered the Franks to each other, for they
dared not let their voices be heard.

PART XIII.

Now the battle was to begin, for the two armies were drawn up in
fighting array, and Rainouart took his place at the head of his cowards
opposite the Saracens, from which race he sprang.

The charge was sounded, and the two armies met with a shock, and many a
man fell from his horse and was trampled under foot. "Narbonne!
Narbonne!" shouted Aimeri, advancing within reach of a crossbow shot,
and he would have been slain had not his sons dashed to his rescue.
Count William did miracles, and the Saracens were driven so far back
that Rainouart feared the battle would be ended before he had struck a
blow.

Followed by his troop of cowards Rainouart made straight for the enemy,
and before him they fell as corn before a sickle. "Strike, soldiers,"
shouted he; "strike and avenge the noble Vivian."

Rainouart and his cowards pressed on and on, and the Saracens fell
back, step by step, till they reached the sea, where their ships were
anchored.

Then Rainouart drove his staff in the sand, and by its help swung
himself on board a small vessel, which happened to be the very one in
which the nephews of William were imprisoned. He laid about him right
and left with his staff, till he had slain all the gaolers, and at last
he came to a young man whose eyes were bandaged and his feet tied
together. "Who are you?" asked Rainouart.

"I am Bertrand, nephew of William Short Nose. Four months ago I was
taken captive by the Saracens, and if, as I think, they carry me into
Arabia, then may God have pity on my soul, for it is all over with my
body."

"Sir Count," answered Rainouart, "for love of William I will deliver
you."

Seizing the weapons of the dead Saracens, they scrambled on shore, a