The Argosy, April 1912 — page 131: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

WITH SWORD AND STRATEGY. Then the inopportune entry of the king had sapped the courage from the queen, and she was revealed in her true light, vacil- lating and cowardly. As he walked westward, away from the Danube, that skirted the northeast section, a river Charlemagne was already bridging with pontoon roadways, Philip failed to notice coming toward him a band of men, all in an advanced state of drunkenness and pugnacity. There were perhaps ten or a dozen in the party, all of them military men or nobles of good degree. Regensburg was rather small, with nar- row, crooked, unlighted streets, and low, Frankish houses that leaned toward one an- other crazily. Near the palace an occa- sional taper in a wall pierced the darkness with its slender light, but the rest of the city lay black. At night bands of roving brigands made the streets their ground of operation, and considered every human being legitimate prey. Wise people stayed indoors after dark, and those who were forced out went under the protection of an armed guard. Finally the sounds made by the approaching body of revelers grew so insis- tent that they broke through Philip’s un- happy musing, and anxious to avoid bring- ing himself into conflict with anybody, he quietly crossed the street and glued his back to a doorway in order that the others might pass without seeing him. They did so, and Philip, breathing more easily, had started on again, when he heard the rushing of feet and sudden savage cries. Looking behind, he saw swift, dark figures rounding a corner and uniting in a vicious attack upon the more or less helpless nobles he had just escaped. ‘In a trice the Breton realized what had happened. A party of night-prowlers had pounced upon its prey, and murder and rob- bery were being done under his very nose. In an instant priestly garb, bent back, and lame leg were forgotten. Philip, now all the warrior, heard the call in his blood for battle, and he leaped to the fray. At one and the same instant he swept aside the fold of his cassock and drew the sword that had swung helplessly beneath it for so many days. Then, with a'yell, he precipitated himself upon the rear of the marauders. But others, having heard the sounds of battle, swarmed toward the row like wolves to a killing, and Philip soon found himself in a difficult place, unable to reach those 117 whom he was trying to defend and equally helpless to retreat the way he had come. Realizing that his present position meant certain death, he turned his attack directly at right angles and hewed himself a passage to a doorway where he would be able to de- fend himself with greater ease. The coat of mail he wore beneath his clerical garments, coupled with his wonder- ful skill as a swordsman, protected him until he could reach down and snatch from the hand of a dying man the shield that was of no more use to him. With this in his left hand he felt secure, and laid on his enemies with the fierce joy of battle that only the true warrior feels when he has been deprived for some time of his occupation. “Fire of the pit!” he heard one man ex- claia.to his companion as, side by side, they strove to bring down this new battler. “The man’s a priest! We are fighting against God!” “Not God, but the devil in disguise!” grunted his mate. favorite costume upon earth is that of a monk, and, by the rood, no one but the old sinner himself could fight like this fel- low! Monk, indeed! A monk with a sword like that and a swift brain could be second only to the king!” “I am the devil,” announced Philip in a sonorous tone calculated to strike terror into the hearts of his superstitious oppo- nents. But it had quite a contrary effect. “Well, here’s where I even up old scores!” cried one of the men. ‘“ You’ve beaten me enough in the past,” and he re- doubled the vigor of his attack. Philip now realized that he was face to face with most of the prowling band, because the noise of.the other conflict was lessening, thus in- dicating that the unfortunate and inebriated nobles had met their fate and were being duly robbed. Closer and closer the ruffians pressed, hampering each other in their eager attempts to slay this wonderful fighter who had laid so many of their number low. ‘Truly, the Breton’s work had not been lost, for around him gradually rose a pile of dead, while the narrow street for a hundred feet in either direction held the writhing bodies of men desperately wounded. Without a helmet Philip ‘was in imminent danger. More than that, he was tiring. He realized that these men, like wolves upon a cornered stag, would pull him down in the end, and that he would die a miserable and (CO Ghook “You’ve heard that his ©