"WHERE is Sir Claude Latour?" asked Sir Nigel, as his feettouched ground.

"He is in camp, near Montpezat, two hours' march from here, myfair lord," said Johnston, the grizzled bowman who commanded thearchers.

"Then we shall march thither, for I would fain have you all backat Dax in time to be in the prince's vanguard."

"My lord," cried Alleyne, joyfully, "here are our chargers in thefield, and I see your harness amid the plunder which these rogueshave left behind them."

"By Saint Ives! you speak sooth, young squire," said Du Guesclin."There is my horse and my lady's jennet. The knaves led themfrom the stables, but fled without them. Now, Nigel, it is greatjoy to me to have seen one of whom I have often heard. Yet wemust leave you now, for I must be with the King of Spain ere yourarmy crosses the mountains."

"I had thought that you were in Spain with the valiant Henry ofTrastamare."

"I have been there, but I came to France to raise succor for him.I shall ride back, Nigel, with four thousand of the best lancesof France at my back, so that your prince may find he hath a taskwhich is worthy of him. God be with you, friend, and may we meetagain in better times!"

"I do not think," said Sir Nigel, as he stood by Alleyne's sidelooking after the French knight and his lady, "that in allChristendom you will meet with a more stout-hearted man or afairer and sweeter dame. But your face is pale and sad, Alleyne!Have you perchance met with some hurt during the ruffle?"

"Nay, my fair lord, I was but thinking of my friend Ford, and howhe sat upon my couch no later than yesternight."

Sir Nigel shook his head sadly. "Two brave squires have I lost,"said he. "I know not why the young shoots should be plucked, andan old weed left standing, yet certes there must be come goodreason, since God hath so planned it. Did you not note, Alleyne,that the Lady Tiphaine did give us warning last night that dangerwas coming upon us?"

"She did, my lord."

"By Saint Paul! my mind misgives me as to what she saw at TwyhamCastle. And yet I cannot think that any Scottish or Frenchrovers could land in such force as to beleaguer the fortalice.Call the Company together, Aylward; and let us on, for it will beshame to us if we are not at Dax upon the trysting day."

The archers had spread themselves over the ruins, but a blastupon a bugle brought them all back to muster, with such booty asthey could bear with them stuffed into their pouches or slungover their shoulders. As they formed into ranks, each mandropping silently into his place, Sir Nigel ran a questioning eyeover them, and a smile of pleasure played over his face. Talland sinewy, and brown, clear-eyed, hard-featured, with the sternand prompt bearing of experienced soldiers, it would be hardindeed for a leader to seek for a choicer following. Here andthere in the ranks were old soldiers of the French wars, grizzledand lean, with fierce, puckered features and shaggy, bristlingbrows. The most, however, were young and dandy archers, withfresh English faces, their beards combed out, their hair curlingfrom under their close steel hufkens, with gold or jewelledearrings gleaming in their ears, while their gold-spangledbaldrics, their silken belts, and the chains which many of themwore round their thick brown necks, all spoke of the brave timeswhich they had had as free companions. Each had a yew or hazelstave slung over his shoulder, plain and serviceable with theolder men, but gaudily painted and carved at either end with theothers. Steel caps, mail brigandines, white surcoats with thered lion of St. George, and sword or battle-axe swinging fromtheir belts, completed this equipment, while in some cases themurderous maule or five-foot mallet was hung across thebowstave, being fastened to their leathern shoulder-belt by ahook in the centre of the handle. Sir Nigel's heart beat high ashe looked upon their free bearing and fearless faces.

For two hours they marched through forest and marshland, alongthe left bank of the river Aveyron; Sir Nigel riding behind hisCompany, with Alleyne at his right hand, and Johnston, the oldmaster bowman, walking by his left stirrup. Ere they had reachedtheir journey's end the knight had learned all that he would knowof his men, their doings and their intentions. Once, as theymarched, they saw upon the further bank of the river a body ofFrench men-at-arms, riding very swiftly in the direction ofVillefranche.

"It is the Seneschal of Toulouse, with his following," saidJohnston, shading his eyes with his hand. "Had he been on thisside of the water he might have attempted something upon us."

"I think that it would be well that we should cross," said SirNigel. "It were pity to balk this worthy seneschal, should hedesire to try some small feat of arms."

"Nay, there is no ford nearer than Tourville," answered the oldarcher. "He is on his way to Villefranche, and short will be theshrift of any Jacks who come into his hands, for he is a man ofshort speech. It was he and the Seneschal of Beaucair who hungPeter Wilkins, of the Company, last Lammastide; for which, by theblack rood of Waltham! they shall hang themselves, if ever theycome into our power. But here are our comrades, Sir Nigel, andhere is our camp."

As he spoke, the forest pathway along which they marched openedout into a green glade, which sloped down towards the river.High, leafless trees girt it in on three sides, with a thickundergrowth of holly between their trunks. At the farther end ofthis forest clearing there stood forty or fifty huts, built veryneatly from wood and clay, with the blue smoke curling out fromthe roofs. A dozen tethered horses and mules grazed around theencampment, while a number of archers lounged about: someshooting at marks, while others built up great wooden fires inthe open, and hung their cooking kettles above them. At thesight of their returning comrades there was a shout of welcome,and a horseman, who had been exercising his charger behind thecamp, came cantering down to them. He was a dapper, brisk man,very richly clad, with a round, clean-shaven face, and verybright black eyes, which danced and sparkled with excitement.

"Sir Nigel!" he cried. "Sir Nigel Loring, at last! By my soulwe have awaited you this month past. Right welcome, Sir Nigel!You have had my letter?"

"It was that which brought me here," said Sir Nigel. "Butindeed, Sir Claude Latour, it is a great wonder to me that youdid not yourself lead these bowmen, for surely they could havefound no better leader?"

"None, none, by the Virgin of L'Esparre!" he cried, speaking inthe strange, thick Gascon speech which turns every _v_ into a_b_. "But you know what these islanders of yours are, Sir Nigel.They will not be led by any save their own blood and race. Thereis no persuading them. Not even I, Claude Letour Seigneur ofMontchateau, master of the high justice, the middle and the low,could gain their favor. They must needs hold a council and puttheir two hundred thick heads together, and then there comes thisfellow Aylward and another, as their spokesmen, to say that theywill disband unless an Englishman of good name be set over them.There are many of them, as I understand, who come from some greatforest which lies in Hampi, or Hampti--I cannot lay my tongue tothe name. Your dwelling is in those parts, and so their thoughtsturned to you as their leader. But we had hoped that you wouldbring a hundred men with you."

"They are already at Dax, where we shall join them," said SirNigel. "But let the men break their fast, and we shall then takecounsel what to do."

"Come into my hut," said Sir Claude. "It is but poor fare that Ican lay before you--milk, cheese, wine, and bacon--yet yoursquire and yourself will doubtless excuse it. This is my housewhere the pennon flies before the door--a small residence tocontain the Lord of Montchateau."

Sir Nigel sat silent and distrait at his meal, while Alleynehearkened to the clattering tongue of the Gascon, and to his talkof the glories of his own estate, his successes in love, and histriumphs in war.

"And now that you are here, Sir Nigel," he said at last, "I havemany fine ventures all ready for us. I have heard that Montpezatis of no great strength, and that there are two hundred thousandcrowns in the castle. At Castelnau also there is a cobbler whois in my pay, and who will throw us a rope any dark night fromhis house by the town wall. I promise you that you shall thrustyour arms elbow-deep among good silver pieces ere the nights aremoonless again; for on every hand of us are fair women, richwine, and good plunder, as much as heart could wish."

"I have other plans," answered Sir Nigel curtly; "for I have comehither to lead these bowmen to the help of the prince, ourmaster, who may have sore need of them ere he set Pedro upon thethrone of Spain. It is my purpose to start this very day for Daxupon the Adour, where he hath now pitched his camp."

The face of the Gascon darkened, and his eyes flashed withresentment, "For me," he said, "I care little for this war, and Ifind the life which I lead a very joyous and pleasant one. Iwill not go to Dax."

"Nay, think again, Sir Claude," said Sir Nigel gently; "for youhave ever had the name of a true and loyal knight. Surely youwill not hold back now when your master hath need of you."

"I will not go to Dax," the other shouted.

"But your devoir--your oath of fealty?"

"I say that I will not go."

"Then, Sir Claude, I must lead the Company without you."

"If they will follow," cried the Gascon with a sneer. "These arenot hired slaves, but free companions, who will do nothing saveby their own good wills. In very sooth, my Lord Loring, they areill men to trifle with, and it were easier to pluck a bone from ahungry bear than to lead a bowman out of a land of plenty and ofpleasure."

"Then I pray you to gather them together," said Sir Nigel, "and Iwill tell them what is in my mind; for if I am their leader theymust to Dax, and if I am not then I know not what I am doing inAuvergne. Have my horse ready, Alleyne; for, by St. Paul! comewhat may, I must be upon the homeward road ere mid-day."

A blast upon the bugle summoned the bowmen to counsel, and theygathered in little knots and groups around a great fallen treewhich lay athwart the glade. Sir Nigel sprang lightly upon thetrunk, and stood with blinking eye and firm lips looking down atthe ring of upturned warlike faces.

"They tell me, bowmen," said he, "that ye have grown so fond ofease and plunder and high living that ye are not to be moved fromthis pleasant country. But, by Saint Paul! I will believe nosuch thing of you, for I can readily see that you are all veryvaliant men, who would scorn to live here in peace when yourprince hath so great a venture before him. Ye have chosen me asa leader, and a leader I will be if ye come with me to Spain; andI vow to you that my pennon of the five roses shall, if God giveme strength and life, be ever where there is most honor to begained. But if it be your wish to loll and loiter in theseglades, bartering glory and renown for vile gold and ill-gottenriches, then ye must find another leader; for I have lived inhonor, and in honor I trust that I shall die. If there be forestmen or Hampshire men amongst ye, I call upon them to say whetherthey will follow the banner of Loring."

"Here's a Romsey man for you!" cried a young bowman with a sprigof evergreen set in his helmet.

"And a lad from Alresford!" shouted another.

"And from Milton!"

"And from Burley!"

"And from Lymington!"

"And a little one from Brockenhurst!" shouted a huge-limbedfellow who sprawled beneath a tree.

"By my hilt! lads," cried Aylward, jumping upon the fallen trunk,"I think that we could not look the girls in the eyes if we letthe prince cross the mountains and did not pull string to clear apath for him. It is very well in time of peace to lead such alife as we have had together, but now the war-banner is in thewind once more, and, by these ten finger-bones! if he go alone,old Samkin Aylward will walk beside it."

These words from a man as popular as Aylward decided many of thewaverers, and a shout of approval burst from his audience.

"Far be it from me," said Sir Claude Latour suavely, "to persuadeyou against this worthy archer, or against Sir Nigel Loring; yetwe have been together in many ventures, and per-chance it may notbe amiss if I say to you what I think upon the matter."

"Peace for the little Gascon!" cried the archers. "Let every manhave his word. Shoot straight for the mark, lad, and fair playfor all."

"Bethink you, then," said Sir Claude, "that you go under a hardrule, with neither freedom nor pleasure--and for what? Forsixpence a day, at the most; while now you may walk across thecountry and stretch out either hand to gather in whatever youhave a mind for. What do we not hear of our comrades who havegone with Sir John Hawkwood to Italy? In one night they haveheld to ransom six hundred of the richest noblemen of Mantua.They camp before a great city, and the base burghers come forthwith the keys, and then they make great spoil; or, if it pleasethem better, they take so many horse-loads of silver as acomposition; and so they journey on from state to state, rich andfree and feared by all. Now, is not that the proper life for asoldier?"

"The proper life for a robber!" roared Hordle John, in histhundering voice.

"And yet there is much in what the Gascon says," said a swarthyfellow in a weather-stained doublet; "and I for one would ratherprosper in Italy than starve in Spain."

"You were always a cur and a traitor, Mark Shaw," cried Aylward."By my hilt! if you will stand forth and draw your sword I willwarrant you that you will see neither one nor the other."

"Nay, Aylward," said Sir Nigel, "we cannot mend the matter bybroiling. Sir Claude, I think that what you have said does youlittle honor, and if my words aggrieve you I am ever ready to godeeper into the matter with you. But you shall have such men aswill follow you, and you may go where you will, so that you comenot with us. Let all who love their prince and country standfast, while those who think more of a well-lined purse step forthupon the farther side."

Thirteen bowmen, with hung heads and sheepish faces, steppedforward with Mark Shaw and ranged themselves behind Sir Claude.Amid the hootings and hissings of their comrades, they marchedoff together to the Gascon's hut, while the main body broke uptheir meeting and set cheerily to work packing their possessions,furbishing their weapons, and preparing for the march which laybefore them. Over the Tarn and the Garonne, through the vastquagmires of Armagnac, past the swift-flowing Losse, and so downthe long valley of the Adour, there was many a long league to becrossed ere they could join themselves to that dark war-cloudwhich was drifting slowly southwards to the line of the snowypeaks, beyond which the banner of England had never yet beenseen.