corner of the house, stepped forth to
him. He perceiving it to be John Foxe, said: 'O Foxe! what have I
deserved of thee that thou shouldest seek my death?'

'Thou, villain,' quoth Foxe, 'hast been a blood-sucker of many a
Christian's blood, and now thou shalt know what thou hast deserved at my
hands!'

Therewith he lifted up his bright shining sword, cleared of its ten
years' rust, and struck him so strong a blow that his head was cleft
asunder, and he fell stark dead to the ground. Thereupon Peter Unticare
went in and told the rest how it was with the keeper, and at once they
came forth, and with their weapons ran him through and cut off his head,
so that no man should know who he was.

Then they marched towards the road, and entered it softly. There were
six warders guarding it, and one of them asked who was there. Then quoth
Foxe and his company, 'All friends!'

But when they were within it proved contrary, for, quoth Foxe to his
companions:

'My masters, here there is not a man to a man, so look you play your
parts!' They so behaved themselves indeed that they had despatched those
six quickly. Then John Foxe, intending not to be thwarted in his
enterprise, barred the gate surely, and planted a cannon against it.

They entered the gaoler's lodge, where they found the keys of the
fortress and prison by his bedside, and then they all got better
weapons. In this chamber was a chest holding a great treasure, all in
ducats, which Peter Unticare and two more stuffed into their garments,
as many as they could carry. But Foxe would not touch them, saying that
it was his liberty and theirs he sought, and not to make a spoil of the
wicked treasure of the infidels. Yet these words did not sink into their
hearts, though they had no good of their gain.

Now, having provided themselves with the weapons they needed, they came
to the prison, and unlocked its gates and doors, and called forth all
the prisoners, whom they employed, some in ramming up the gate, some in
fitting up a galley which was the best in the road.

In the prison were several warders, whom John Foxe and his company slew;
but this was perceived by eight more Turks, who fled to the top of the
prison, where Foxe and his company had to reach them by ladders. Then
followed a hot skirmish, and John Foxe was shot thrice through his
apparel, without being hurt; but Peter Unticare and the other two, who
had weighed themselves down with the ducats so that they cou