quit ourselves better had we our

none-meat, for the sun is high in the heaven."

"by saint paul!" quoth sir nigel, plucking the patch from his

eye, "i think that i am now clear of my vow, for this spanish

knight was a person from whom much honor might be won. indeed, he

was a very worthy gentleman, of good courage, and great

hardiness, and it grieves me that he should have come by such a

hurt. as to what you say of food, oliver, it is not to be

thought of, for we have nothing with us upon the hill."

"nigel!" cried sir simon burley, hurrying up with consternation

upon his face, "aylward tells me that there are not ten-score

arrows left in all their sheaves. see! they are springing from

their horses, and cutting their sollerets that they may rush upon

us. might we not even now make a retreat?"

"my soul will retreat from my body first!" cried the little

knight. "here i am, and here i bide, while god gives me strength

to lift a sword."

"and so say i!" shouted sir oliver, throwing his mace high into

the air and catching it again by the handle.

"to your arms, men!" roared sir nigel. "shoot while you may, and

then out sword, and let us live or die together!"

chapter xxxvii.

how the white company came to be disbanded.

then uprose from the hill in the rugged calabrian valley a sound

such as had not been heard in those parts before, nor was again,

until the streams which rippled amid the rocks had been frozen by

over four hundred winters and thawed by as many returning

springs. deep and full and strong it thundered down the ravine,

the fierce battle-call of a warrior race, the last stern welcome

to whoso should join with them in that world-old game where the

stake is death. thrice it swelled forth and thrice it sank away,

echoing and reverberating amidst the crags. then, with set

faces, the company rose up among the storm of stones, and looked

down upon the thousands who sped swiftly up the slope against

them. horse and spear had been set aside, but on foot, with

sword and battle-axe, their broad shields slung in front of them,

the chivalry of spain rushed to the attack.

and now arose a struggle so fell, so long, so evenly sustained,

that even now the memory of it is handed down amongst the

calabrian mountaineers and the ill-omened knoll is still pointed

out by fathers to their children as the "altura de los inglesos,"

where the men from across the sea fought the great fight with the

knights of the south. the last arrow was quickly shot, nor could

the slingers hurl their stones, so close were friend and foe.

from side to side stretched the thin line of the english, lightly

armed and quick-footed, while against it stormed and raged the

pressing throng of fiery spaniards and of gallant bretons. the

clink of crossing sword-blades, the dull thudding of heavy blows,

the panting and gasping of weary and wounded men, all rose

together in a wild, long-drawn note, which swelled upwards to the

ears of the wondering peasants who looked down from the edges of

the cliffs upon the swaying turmoil of the battle beneath them.

back and forward reeled the leopard banner, now borne up the

slope by the rush and weight of the onslaught, now pushing

downwards again as sir nigel, burley, and black simon with their

veteran men-at arms, flung themselves madly into the fray.

alleyne, at his lord's right hand, found himself swept hither and

thither in the desperate struggle, exchanging savage thrusts one

instant with a spanish cavalier, and the next torn away by the

whirl of men and dashed up against some new antagonist. to the

right sir oliver, aylward, hordle john, and the bowmen of the

company fought furiously against the monkish knights of santiago,

who were led up the hill by their prior--a great, deep-chested

man, who wore a brown monastic habit over his suit of mail.

three archers he slew in three giant strokes, but sir oliver

flung his arms round him, and the two, staggering and straining,

reeled backwards and fell, locked in each other's grasp, over the

edge of the steep cliff which flanked the hill. in vain his

knights stormed and raved against the thin line which barred

their path: the sword of aylward and the great axe of john

gleamed in the forefront of the battle and huge jagged pieces of

rock, hurled by the strong arms of the bowmen, crashed and

hurtled amid their ranks. slowly they gave back down the hill,

the archers still hanging upon their skirts, with a long litter

of writhing and twisted figures to mark the course which they

had taken. at the same instant the welshmen upon the left, led

on by the scotch earl, had charged out from among the rocks which

sheltered them, and by the fury of their outfall had driven the

spaniards in front of them in headlong flight down the hill. in

the centre only things seemed to be going il