. but

his head was whirling round, the blood was gushing from his brow,

his temple, his mouth. ever keener and sharper was the deadly

pain which shot like a red-hot arrow through his side. he felt

that his eye was glazing, his senses slipping from him, his

grasp upon the reins relaxing. then with one mighty effort, he

called up all his strength for a single minute. stooping down,

he loosened the stirrup-straps, bound his knees tightly to his

saddle-flaps, twisted his hands in the bridle, and then, putting

the gallant horse's head for the mountain path, he dashed the

spurs in and fell forward fainting with his face buried in the

coarse, black mane.

little could he ever remember of that wild ride. half conscious,

but ever with the one thought beating in his mind, he goaded the

horse onwards, rushing swiftly down steep ravines over huge

boulders, along the edges of black abysbes. dim memories he had

of beetling cliffs, of a group of huts with wondering faces at

the doors, of foaming, clattering water, and of a bristle of

mountain beeches. once, ere he had ridden far, he heard behind

him three deep, sullen shouts, which told him that his comrades

had set their faces to the foe once more. then all was blank,

until he woke to find kindly blue english eyes peering down upon

him and to hear the blessed sound of his country's speech. they

were but a foraging party--a hundred archers and as many men at-

arms-but their leader was sir hugh calverley, and he was not a

man to bide idle when good blows were to be had not three leagues

from him. a scout was sent flying with a message to the camp,

and sir hugh, with his two hundred men, thundered off to the

rescue. with them went alleyne, still bound to his saddle, still

dripping with blood, and swooning and recovering, and swooning

once again. on they rode, and on, until, at last, topping a

ridge, they looked down upon the fateful valley. alas! and alas!

for the sight that met their eyes.

there, beneath them, was the blood-bathed hill, and from the

highest pinnacle there flaunted the yellow and white banner with

the lions and the towers of the royal house of castile. up the

long slope rushed ranks and ranks of men exultant, shouting, with

waving pennons and brandished arms. over the whole summit were

dense throngs of knights, with no enemy that could be seen to

face them, save only that at one corner of the plateau an eddy

and swirl amid the crowded mass seemed to show that all

resistance was not yet at an end. at the sight a deep groan of

rage and of despair went up from the baffled rescuers, and,

spurring on their horses, they clattered down the long and

winding path which led to the valley beneath.

but they were too late to avenge, as they had been too late to

save. long ere they could gain the level ground, the spaniards,

seeing them riding swiftly amid the rocks, and being ignorant of

their numbers, drew off from the captured hill, and, having

secured their few prisoners, rode slowly in a long column, with

drum-beating and cymbal-clashing, out of the valley. their rear

ranks were already passing out of sight ere the new-comers were

urging their panting, foaming horses up the slope which had been

the scene of that long drawn and bloody fight.

and a fearsome sight it was that met their eyes! across the

lower end lay the dense heap of men and horses where the first

arrow-storm had burst. above, the bodies of the dead and the

dying--french, spanish, and aragonese--lay thick and thicker,

until they covered the whole ground two and three deep in one

dreadful tangle of slaughter. above them lay the englishmen in

their lines, even as they had stood, and higher yet upon the

plateau a wild medley of the dead of all nations, where the last

deadly grapple had left them. in the further corner, under the

shadow of a great rock, there crouched seven bowmen, with great

john in the centre of them--all wounded, weary, and in sorry

case, but still unconquered, with their blood-stained weapons

waving and their voices ringing a welcome to their countrymen.

alleyne rode across to john, while sir hugh calverley followed

close behind him.

"by saint george!" cried sir hugh, "i have never seen signs of so

stern a fight, and i am right glad that we have been in time to

save you."

"you have saved more than us," said john, pointing to the banner

which leaned against the rock behind him.

"you have done nobly," cried the old free companion, gazing with

a soldier's admiration at the huge frame and bold face of the

archer. "but why is it, my good fellow, that you sit upon this

man."

"by the rood! i had forgot him," john answered, rising and

dragging from under him no less a person than the spanish

caballero, don diego alvarez. "this man, my fair lord, means to

me a new house, ten cows, one bull