Conan was the leader of a gang of robbers. He decided to plunder the home of a rich knight who lived over the Severn in Glamorgan.

He hid his force in a wood and came out alone, planning to organize the attack. Towards evening he saw a poor knight approach and seek entrance to the house in the name of charity, whereupon he was let in.

He went back to his men. “We cannot touch this man for he is a good man who takes in guests. It is as if God Himself is there.”

But the rest of the band were scornful. “Bah, call this man fearless?” he heard someone mutter at the back. So, preferring death to the charge of cowardice, he agreed to attack and they reached the knight’s house in the small hours.

The guest knight was sleeping in the great hall, under a window that was large and near the ground. He heard the guard dogs barking and guessed that an attack was underway. In haste and in silence he threw on his coat of mail and took his stand facing the window.

A nephew of Conan stealthily opened the window and put his foot in meaning to enter. Instantly the knight plunged his spear into his heart and thrust him out of the window. The man’s brother, thinking that he had recoiled in fear, swore at him, pushed by him and was given a like wound.

Conan and his men took up their dead and fled. “I knew the Lord was in there.” He remarked bitterly.


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