flag,' said Big Ferre; and marching in front, and laying about him right
and left with his axe, he opened and cleared the way to the point
indicated, so that his comrade could freely hurl the flag into the ditch.
After he had rested a moment, he returned to the fight, and fell so
roughly on the English who remained, that all those who could fly
hastened to profit thereby. It is said that on that day, with the help
of God and Big Ferre, who, with his own hand, as is certified, laid low
more than forty, the greater part of the English who had come to this
business never went back from it. But the captain on our side, William
a-Larks, was there stricken mortally: he was not yet dead when the fight
ended; he was carried away to his bed; he recognized all his comrades who
were there, and soon afterwards sank under his wounds. They buried him
in the midst of weeping, for he was wise and good."

"At the news of what had thus happened at Longueil the English were very
disconsolate, saying that it was a shame that so many and such brave
warriors should have been slain by such rustics. Next day they came
together again from all their camps in the neighborhood, and went and
made a vigorous attack at Longueil on our folks, who no longer feared
them hardly at all, and went out of their walls to fight them. In the
first rank was Big Ferre, of whom the English had heard so much talk.
When they saw him, and when they felt the weight of his axe and his arm,
many of those who had come to this fight would have been right glad not
to be there. Many fled or were grievously wounded or slain. Some of the
English nobles were taken. If our folks had been willing to give them up
for money, as the nobles do, they might have made a great deal; but they
would not.

[Illustration: Big Ferre----376]

When the fight was over, Big Ferre, overcome with heat and fatigue, drank
a large quantity of cold water, and was forthwith seized of a fever. He
put himself to bed without parting from his axe, which was so heavy that
a man of the usual strength could scarcely lift it from the ground with
both hands. The English, hearing that Big Ferre was sick, rejoiced
greatly, and for fear he should get well they sent privily, round about
the place where he was lodged, twelve of their men bidden to try and rid
them of him. On espying them from afar, his wife hurried up to his bed
where he was laid, saying to him, 'My dear Ferre, the English are coming,