once to him, or to aid him if he were wounded. He then
rode off in the direction of the marsh accompanied by his hounds. No sooner
did the serpent hear the ring of bit and stirrup-iron, the trampling of the
charger and the baying of the hounds, than it issued forth with wide-open
slavering jaws and terrible burning eyes to slay and to devour. Gozon,
recommending his soul to his Maker, put spurs to his horse and charged. But
his lance shivered on the hide of the serpent as though it had struck a
stone wall. His horse, mad with terror at the sight and the foul odour of
the serpent, plunged so furiously as to unseat him. He fell to the ground,
uttering as he did so his call to the hounds; had it not been for these
faithful auxiliaries he would instantly have been slain, but they rushed in
and, fastening their teeth in the belly of the serpent, caused it to writhe
and twist in its anguish. Instantly Gozon was upon his feet again, and,
watching his opportunity, plunged his sword into the exposed vitals of his
enemy. Mortally wounded, the serpent flung itself high in the air with a
convulsive effort, and falling backwards pinned the knight to the ground
beneath its enormous bulk. The servants, who had been the horrified
spectators of this terrific conflict, now rushed to the assistance of their
master, and succeeded in freeing him from his unpleasant predicament.
Gozon, they thought, was dead, but upon dashing some water in his face he
opened his eyes, to behold the pleasing spectacle of his monstrous enemy
lying by his side a corpse.

Naturally elated, he returned to Rhodes, where he became on the instant the
popular hero; for who could say or do enough for the man who had slain the
serpent. He was conducted in triumph to the palace of the Grand Master by
his fellow knights, but here a remarkably unpleasant surprise was in store
for him. Very austerely did Helion de Villeneuve regard the triumphant
warrior, and stern and uncompromising was the voice in which he asked him
how he had dared to contravene the express order of his Grand Master by
going forth to combat with the serpent? Calling a Council immediately the
implacable de Villeneuve, in spite of all entreaties, deprived Gozon de
Dieu-Donne of the habit of a knight. "What," said this just and severe
disciplinarian, "is the death of this monster, what indeed do the deaths of
the islanders matter, compared with the maintenance of the discipline of
this Order of which I am t