about to gain much honor, sir william,

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 morning

orisons, 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 horse's heads, while sir simon burley repeated the pater,

the ave, and the credo. long did alleyne 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 instant, there rose

the scream of a hundred bugles, with the deep rolling of drums

and the clashing of cymbals, all sounding together in one

deafening uproar. knights and archers sprang to arms, convinced

that some great host was upon them; but the guide dropped upon

his knees and thanked heaven for its mercies.

"we have found them, caballeros!" he cried. "this is their

morning call. if ye will but deign to follow me, i will set them

before you ere a man might tell his beads."

as he spoke he scrambled down one of the narrow ravines, and,

climbing over a low ridge at the further end, he led them into a

short valley with a stream purling down the centre of it and a

very thick growth of elder and of box upon either side. pushing

their way through the dense brushwood, they looked out upon a

scene which made their hearts beat harder and their breath come

faster.

in front of them there lay a broad plain, watered by two winding

streams and covered with grass, stretching away to where, in the

furthest distance, the towers of burgos bristled up against the

light blue morning 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 marquees, shooting up from among the crowd

of meaner dwellings, marked where the great lords and barons of

leon and castile displayed their standards, while over the white

roofs, as far as eye could reach, the waving of ancients, pavons,

pensils, and banderoles, with flash of gold and glow of colors,

proclaimed that all the chivalry of iberia were mustered in the

plain beneath them. far off, in the centre of the camp, a huge

palace of red and white silk, with the royal arms of castile

waiving from the summit, announced that the gallant henry lay

there in the midst of his warriors.

as the english adventurers, peeping out 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

first pink light of the rising sun glittered upon the steel caps

and breastplates of dense masses of slingers and of crossbowmen,

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 faggots were piled and the camp-

kettles already simmering. in the open plain clouds of light

horse galloped and swooped with swaying bodies and waving

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' chargers down to

water, while the knights themselves lounged in gayly-dressed

groups about the doors of their pavilions, 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 aylward to alleyne, as the

young squire stood with parted lips and wondering eyes, gazing

down at the novel scene before him, "we have been seeking them

all night, but now that we have found them i know not what we are

to do with them."

"you say sooth, samkin," quoth old johnston. "i would that we

were upon the far side of ebro again, for there is neither honor

nor profit to be gained here. what say you, simon?"

"by the rood!" cried the fierce man-at-arms, "i will see the

color of their blood ere i turn my mare's head for the mountains.

am i a child, that i should ride for three days and nought but

words at the end of it?"

"well said, my sweet honeysuckle!" cried hordle john. "i am with

you, like hilt to blade. could i but lay hands upon one of those

gay prancers yonder, i doubt not that i should have ransom enough

from him 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

jerkin!"

he was about to push recklessly forward int