Evening star., 1905-11-11

| Lord of Angus? Or you, Sir Richard?"
Nay, nay Nigel" cried Sir William.
| This base peasant is too small a matter
| for old comrades to quarrel over. But he
| hath betrayed us, and certes he hath mer-
| tied q dogs death"
"Hark ye. fellow said Sir Nigel I'VE
| give you more chance to find the path
We are about to gain much honor, Sir Will
lam, in this enterprise, and it would be a
sorry thing if the first blood shed were that
of an unworthy boor. Let US say our morn
ing prisons, and it may chance that ere we
finish he may strike upon the track
With bowed heads and steel caps in hand,
the archers stood at their horses heads,
while Sir Simon Burley repeated the pater,
the ave and the credo. Long did Aleyne
bear the scene in mind-the knot of knights
In their dull, leaden-hued armor. the ruddy
visage of Sir Oliver, the craggy features of
the Scottish earl the shining scalp of Sir
Nigel, with the dense ring of hard, bearded
faces and the long brown heads of the
horses, all topped and circled by the beetling
cliffs. Scarce had the last deep amen"
broken from the company, when, in an in
slant, there arose the scream of hundred
buges. with the deep rolling of drums and
the clashing of cymbals, all sounding to-
gether in one deepening uproar: knights
and archers sprung to arms, convinced that
some great host was upon them; but the
guide dropped upon his knees and thanked
heaven for its merces.
I'VE have found them, cablalerosr he
cried This is their morning call. If you
will but deign to follow me; l will set them
before you ere man might tell his beads
AS he spoke he scrambled down one of
the narrow ravlnes, and, climbing over
low ridge at the further end. he led them
into short valley with a stream purling
down the center of it, and a very thick
growth of elder and box upon either side.
Pushing their way through the dense
brushwood, they looked out upon the scene
which made their hearts beat harder and
their breath come faster.
In front of them there lay broad plain,
fV-n wi 4irfJ cztr and
cred with grass, stretching away to where,
in the furthest distance, the towers of Bur-
gos bIfstled UP against the light blue morn
ing sky. Over all this vast meadow there
lay a great city of tents-thousands upon
thousands of them laid out in streets and
in squares like a well-ordered town. High
silken pavilions or colored marques. shoot
ing up from among the crowd of meaner
dwellings, marked where the great lords and
barons of Leon and CASTLE displayed their
standards, while over the white roofs as far
as eye could reach, the waving of ancients,
pavons, pensils and banderoles, with fash
of gold and glow of colors, proclaimed that
all the chivalry of Iberia were mustered in
the plain beneath them. Far off, in the CEN
ter of the camp, huge palace of red and
white silk, with the royal arms of CASTLE
waving from the summit, announced that
the gallant Henry lay there in the midst
of his warriors
from behind their brushwood screen, looked
down upon this wondrous sight, they could
see that the vast army in front
of them was already afoot. The
tered upon the steel caps and breast
plates of dense masses of singers and
of cross-bowmen, who drilled and marched
in the spaces which had been left for
their exercise. A thousand columns of
smoke reeked up into the pure morning
air where the fagots were piled and the
camp kettles already summering. In the
open plain clouds of light horse galloped
and swooped with swaying bodies and way
ing javelins. after the fashion which the
Spanish had adopted from their Moorish
enemies All along by the sedgy banks of
the rivers long lines of pages led their
masters charges down to water, while the
knights themselves lounged in gayly dress
ed groups about the doors of their pa
vilions, or rode out with their falcons upon
their wrists and their greyhounds behind
them, in quest of quail or of leVeret.
by my hilt! mon gar" whispered Ayl-
ward to Alleyne as the young squire stood
with parted lips and wondering eyes, gaz-
ing down at the novel scene before him, we
have been seeking them all night, but now
that we have found them. know not what
we are to do with them
you say sooth, Samkin," quoth old john
ston. Il would that we were upon the far
side of Ebro again, for there is neither
honor profit to be gained here. What
say you. Simon?
arms 81 will see the color of their blood ere
1 turn my mares head for the mountains.
Am l a child that | should ride for three
days, and naught but words at the end
of it?''
'fWell said my sweet honeysuckler' cried
Horde John. II am with you, like hilt to
blade. Could l but lay hands upon one of
those gay prancers yonder, l doubt not
that ! should have ransom enough from MIN
to buy my mother a new cow.
"A cow!'' said Aylward. Say rather ten
acres and a homestead on the banks of
Avon
Say you so? Then, by Our Lady. here is
for yonder one in the red jerkini'
He was about to push recklessy forward
into the open. when Sir Nigel himself
darted in front of him, with his hand
upon ais breast.
"Backr' said he "Our time is not yet
come, and We must lie here until even
ing. Throw off your jacks and head
pieces, lest their eyes catch the shine, and
tether the horses. among the rocks
The order swiftly obeyed. and in
| ten minutes the archers were stretched
along by the side of the brook. munching
the bread and the bacon which they had
brought in their bags. and craning their
necks to watch the ever-changing scene
| beneath them. Very quiet and still they
| lay, save for a muttered jest or whispered
order, for twice during the long morn
| ing they heard bugle calls from amid
the hills either side of them, which
showed that they had thrust themselves in
between the outposts of the enemy. The
leaders sat among the lockwood, and took
counsel together as to what they should
do while from below there surged up
the buzz of voices. the shouting, the neigh
ing of horses and all the uproar OF a
great camp.
What boots it to waltz said Sir William
FELTON,. Let us ride down upon their
camp ere they discover u.s.
"And so say IT, cried the Scottish earl;
"for they do not know that there is any
enemy within thirty long leagues of them .
For my part said Sir Simon Burley,
81 think that 1t is madness, for you cannot
harp n this great and where
you to go and what are you to do when
they have turned upon you? How say
you Sir Oliver Buttesthorn?''
| by the apple of Eve!" cried the fat