TO the south of Pampeluna in the kingdom of Navarre therestretched a high table-land, rising into bare, sterile hills,brown or gray in color, and strewn with huge boulders of granite.On the Gascon side of the great mountains there had been runningstreams, meadows, forests, and little nestling villages. Here, onthe contrary, were nothing but naked rocks, poor pasture, andsavage, stone-strewn wastes. Gloomy defiles or barrancasintersected this wild country with mountain torrents dashing andfoaming between their rugged sides. The clatter of waters, thescream of the eagle, and the howling of wolves the only soundswhich broke upon the silence in that dreary and inhospitableregion.

Through this wild country it was that Sir Nigel and his Companypushed their way, riding at times through vast defiles where thebrown, gnarled cliffs shot up on either side of them, and the skywas but a long winding blue slit between the clustering lines ofbox which fringed the lips of the precipices; or, again leadingtheir horses along the narrow and rocky paths worn by themuleteers upon the edges of the chasm, where under their veryelbows they could see the white streak which marked the gavewhich foamed a thousand feet below them. So for two days theypushed their way through the wild places of Navarre, past Fuente,over the rapid Ega, through Estella, until upon a winter'sevening the mountains fell away from in front of them, and theysaw the broad blue Ebro curving betwixt its double line orhomesteads and of villages. The fishers of Viana were arousedthat night by rough voices speaking in a strange tongue, and eremorning Sir Nigel and his men had ferried the river and were safeupon the land of Spain.

All the next day they lay in a pine wood near to the town ofLogrono, resting their horses and taking counsel as to what theyshould do. Sir Nigel had with him Sir William Felton, Sir OliverButtesthorn, stout old Sir Simon Burley, the Scotch knight-errant, the Earl of Angus, and Sir Richard Causton, all accountedamong the bravest knights in the army, together with sixtyveteran men-at-arms, and three hundred and twenty archers. Spieshad been sent out in the morning, and returned after nightfall tosay that the King of Spain was encamped some fourteen miles offin the direction of Burgos, having with him twenty thousand horseand forty-five thousand foot. A dry-wood fire had been lit, andround this the leaders crouched, the glare beating upon theirrugged faces, while the hardy archers lounged and chatted amidthe tethered horses, while they munched their scanty provisions.

"For my part," said Sir Simon Burley, "I am of opinion that wehave already done that which we have come for. For do we not nowknow where the king is, and how great a following he hath, whichwas the end of our journey."

"True," answered Sir William Felton, "but I have come on thisventure because it is a long time since I have broken a spear inwar, and, certes, I shall not go back until I have run a coursewith some cavalier of Spain. Let those go back who will, but Imust see more of these Spaniards ere I turn."

"I will not leave you, Sir William," returned Sir Simon Burley;"and yet, as an old soldier and one who hath seen much of war, Icannot but think that it is an ill thing for four hundred men tofind themselves between an army of sixty thousand on the one sideand a broad river on the other."

"Yet," said Sir Richard Causton, "we cannot for the honor ofEngland go back without a blow struck."

"Nor for the honor of Scotland either," cried the Earl of Angus."By Saint Andrew! I wish that I may never set eyes upon the waterof Leith again, if I pluck my horse's bridle ere I have seen thiscamp of theirs."

"By Saint Paul! you have spoken very well," said Sir Nigel, "andI have always heard that there were very worthy gentlemen amongthe Scots, and fine skirmishing to be had upon their border.Bethink you, Sir Simon, that we have this news from the lips ofcommon spies, who can scarce tell us as much of the enemy and ofhis forces as the prince would wish to hear."

"You are the leader in this venture, Sir Nigel," the otheranswered, "and I do but ride under your banner."

"Yet I would fain have your rede and counsel, Sir Simon. But,touching what you say of the river, we can take heed that weshall not have it at the back of us, for the prince hath nowadvanced to Salvatierra, and thence to Vittoria, so that if wecome upon their camp from the further side we can make good ourretreat."

"What then would you propose?" asked Sir Simon, shaking hisgrizzled head as one who is but half convinced.

"That we ride forward ere the news reach them that we havecrossed the river. In this way we may have sight of their army,and perchance even find occasion for some small deed againstthem."

"So be it, then," said Sir Simon Burley; and the rest of thecouncil having approved, a scanty meal was hurriedly snatched,and the advance resumed under the cover of the darkness. Allnight they led their horses, stumbling and groping through wilddefiles and rugged valleys, following the guidance of afrightened peasant who was strapped by the wrist to Black Simon'sstirrup-leather. With the early dawn they found themselves in ablack ravine, with others sloping away from it on either side,and the bare brown crags rising in long bleak terraces all roundthem.

"If it please you, fair lord," said Black Simon, "this man hathmisled us, and since there is no tree upon which we may hang him,it might be well to hurl him over yonder cliff."

The peasant, reading the soldier's meaning in his fierce eyes andharsh accents dropped upon his knees, screaming loudly for mercy.

"How comes it, dog?" asked Sir William Felton in Spanish. "Whereis this camp to which you swore that you would lead us?"

"By the sweet Virgin! By the blessed Mother of God! cried thetrembling peasant, "I swear to you that in the darkness I havemyself lost the path."

"Over the cliff with him!" shouted half a dozen voices; but erethe archers could drag him from the rocks to which he clung SirNigel had ridden up and called upon them to stop.

"How is this, sirs?" said he. "As long as the prince doth me thehonor to entrust this venture to me, it is for me only to giveorders; and, by Saint Paul! I shall be right blithe to go verydeeply into the matter with any one to whom my words may giveoffence. How say you, Sir William? Or you, my Lord of Angus?Or you, Sir Richard?"

"Nay, nay, Nigel!" cried Sir William. "This base peasant is toosmall a matter for old comrades to quarrel over. But he hathbetrayed us, and certes he hath merited a dog's death."

"Hark ye, fellow," said Sir Nigel. "We give you one more chanceto find the path. We are about to gain much honor, Sir William,in this enterprise, and it would be a sorry thing if the firstblood shed were that of an unworthy boor. Let us say our morningorisons, and it may chance that ere we finish he may strike uponthe track."

With bowed heads and steel caps in hand, the archers stood attheir 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 ruddyvisage 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 toppedand circled by the beetling cliffs. Scarce had the last deep"amen" broken from the Company, when, in an instant, there rosethe scream of a hundred bugles, with the deep rolling of drumsand the clashing of cymbals, all sounding together in onedeafening uproar. Knights and archers sprang to arms, convincedthat some great host was upon them; but the guide dropped uponhis knees and thanked Heaven for its mercies.

"We have found them, caballeros!" he cried. "This is theirmorning call. If ye will but deign to follow me, I will set thembefore 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 ashort valley with a stream purling down the centre of it and avery thick growth of elder and of box upon either side. Pushingtheir way through the dense brushwood, they looked out upon ascene which made their hearts beat harder and their breath comefaster.

In front of them there lay a broad plain, watered by two windingstreams and covered with grass, stretching away to where, in thefurthest distance, the towers of Burgos bristled up against thelight blue morning sky. Over all this vast meadow there lay agreat city of tents--thousands upon thousands of them, laid outin streets and in squares like a well-ordered town. High silkenpavilions or colored marquees, shooting up from among the crowdof meaner dwellings, marked where the great lords and barons ofLeon and Castile displayed their standards, while over the whiteroofs, 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 theplain beneath them. Far off, in the centre of the camp, a hugepalace of red and white silk, with the royal arms of Castilewaiving from the summit, announced that the gallant Henry laythere in the midst of his warriors.

As the English adventurers, peeping out from behind theirbrushwood screen, looked down upon this wondrous sight they couldsee that the vast army in front of them was already afoot. Thefirst pink light of the rising sun glittered upon the steel capsand breastplates of dense masses of slingers and of crossbowmen,who drilled and marched in the spaces which had been left fortheir exercise. A thousand columns of smoke reeked up into thepure morning air where the faggots were piled and the camp-kettles already simmering. In the open plain clouds of lighthorse galloped and swooped with swaying bodies and wavingjavelins, after the fashion which the Spanish had adopted fromtheir Moorish enemies. All along by the sedgy banks of therivers long lines of pages led their masters' chargers down towater, while the knights themselves lounged in gayly-dressedgroups about the doors of their pavilions, or rode out, withtheir 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 theyoung squire stood with parted lips and wondering eyes, gazingdown at the novel scene before him, "we have been seeking themall night, but now that we have found them I know not what we areto do with them."

"You say sooth, Samkin," quoth old Johnston. "I would that wewere upon the far side of Ebro again, for there is neither honornor profit to be gained here. What say you, Simon?"

"By the rood!" cried the fierce man-at-arms, "I will see thecolor 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 butwords at the end of it?"

"Well said, my sweet honeysuckle!" cried Hordle John. "I am withyou, like hilt to blade. Could I but lay hands upon one of thosegay prancers yonder, I doubt not that I should have ransom enoughfrom him to buy my mother a new cow."

"A cow!" said Aylward. "Say rather ten acres and a homestead onthe banks of Avon."

"Say you so? Then, by our Lady! here is for yonder one in the redjerkin!"

He was about to push recklessly forward into the open, when SirNigel himself darted in front of him, with his hand upon hisbreast.

"Back!" said he. "Our time is not yet come, and we must lie hereuntil evening. Throw off your jacks and headpieces, least theireyes catch the shine, and tether the horses among the rocks."

The order was swiftly obeyed, and in ten minutes the archers werestretched along by the side of the brook, munching the bread andthe bacon which they had brought in their bags, and craning theirnecks to watch the ever-changing scene beneath them. Very quietand still they lay, save for a muttered jest or whispered order,for twice during the long morning they heard bugle-calls fromamid the hills on either side of them, which showed that they hadthrust themselves in between the outposts of the enemy. Theleaders sat amongst the box-wood, and took counsel together as towhat they should do; while from below there surged up the buzz ofvoices, the shouting, the neighing of horses, and all the uproarof a great camp.

"What boots it to wait?" said Sir William Felton. "Let us ridedown upon their camp ere they discover us."

"And so say I," cried the Scottish earl; "for they do not knowthat there is any enemy within thirty long leagues of them."

"For my part," said Sir Simon Burley, "I think that it ismadness, for you cannot hope to rout this great army; and whereare you to go and what are you to do when they have turned uponyou? How say you, Sir Oliver Buttesthorn?"

"By the apple of Eve!" cried the fat knight, "it appears to methat this wind brings a very savory smell of garlic and of onionsfrom their cooking-kettles. I am in favor of riding down uponthem at once, if my old friend and comrade here is of the samemind."

"Nay," said Sir Nigel, "I have a plan by which we may attemptsome small deed upon them, and yet, by the help of God, may beable to draw off again; which, as Sir Simon Burley hath said,would be scarce possible in any other way."

"How then, Sir Nigel?" asked several voices.

"We shall lie here all day; for amid this brushwood it is ill forthem to see us. Then when evening comes we shall sally out uponthem and see if we may not gain some honorable advancement fromthem."

"But why then rather than now?"

"Because we shall have nightfall to cover us when we draw off, sothat we may make our way back through the mountains. I wouldstation a score of archers here in the pass, with all our pennonsjutting forth from the rocks, and as many nakirs and drums andbugles as we have with us, so that those who follow us in thefading light may think that the whole army of the prince is uponthem, and fear to go further. What think you of my plan, SirSimon?"

"By my troth! I think very well of it," cried the prudent oldcommander. "If four hundred men must needs run a tilt againstsixty thousand, I cannot see how they can do it better or moresafely."

"And so say I," cried Felton, heartily. "But I wish the day wereover, for it will be an ill thing for us if they chance to lightupon us."

The words were scarce out of his mouth when there came a clatterof loose stones, the sharp clink of trotting hoofs, and a dark-faced cavalier, mounted upon a white horse, burst through thebushes and rode swiftly down the valley from the end which wasfarthest from the Spanish camp. Lightly armed, with his vizoropen and a hawk perched upon his left wrist, he looked about himwith the careless air of a man who is bent wholly upon pleasure,and unconscious of the possibility of danger. Suddenly, however,his eyes lit upon the fierce faces which glared out at him fromthe brushwood. With a cry of terror, he thrust his spurs intohis horse's sides and dashed for the narrow opening of the gorge.For a moment it seemed as though he would have reached it, for hehad trampled over or dashed aside the archers who threwthemselves in his way; but Hordle John seized him by the foot inhis grasp of iron and dragged him from the saddle, while twoothers caught the frightened horse.

"Ho, ho!" roared the great archer. "How many cows wilt buy mymother, if I set thee free?"

"Hush that bull's bellowing!" cried Sir Nigel impatiently. "Bringthe man here. By St. Paul! it is not the first time that we havemet; for, if I mistake not, it is Don Diego Alvarez, who was onceat the prince's court."

"It is indeed I," said the Spanish knight, speaking in the Frenchtongue, "and I pray you to pass your sword through my heart, forhow can I live--I, a caballero of Castile--after being draggedfrom my horse by the base hands of a common archer?"

"Fret not for that," answered Sir Nigel. "For, in sooth, had henot pulled you down, a dozen cloth-yard shafts had crossed eachother in your body."

"By St. James! it were better so than to be polluted by histouch," answered the Spaniard, with his black eyes sparkling withrage and hatred. "I trust that I am now the prisoner of somehonorable knight or gentleman."

"You are the prisoner of the man who took you, Sir Diego,"answered Sir Nigel. "And I may tell you that better men thaneither you or I have found themselves before now prisoners in thehands of archers of England."

"What ransom, then, does he demand?" asked the Spaniard.

Big John scratched his red head and grinned in high delight whenthe question was propounded to him. "Tell him," said he, "that Ishall have ten cows and a bull too, if it be but a little one.Also a dress of blue sendall for mother and a red one for Joan;with five acres of pasture-land, two scythes, and a fine newgrindstone. Likewise a small house, with stalls for the cows,and thirty-six gallons of beer for the thirsty weather."

"Tut, tut!" cried Sir Nigel, laughing. "All these things may behad for money; and I think, Don Diego, that five thousand crownsis not too much for so renowned a knight."

"It shall be duly paid him."

"For some days we must keep you with us; and I must crave leavealso to use your shield, your armor, and your horse."

"My harness is yours by the law of arms," said the Spaniard,gloomily.

"I do but ask the loan of it. I have need of it this day, but itshall be duly returned to you. Set guards, Aylward, with arrowon string, at either end of the pass; for it may happen that someother cavaliers may visit us ere the time be come." All day thelittle band of Englishmen lay in the sheltered gorge, lookingdown upon the vast host of their unconscious enemies. Shortlyafter mid-day, a great uproar of shouting and cheering broke outin the camp, with mustering of men and calling of bugles.Clambering up among the rocks, the companions saw a long rollingcloud of dust along the whole eastern sky-line, with the glintof spears and the flutter of pennons, which announced theapproach of a large body of cavalry, For a moment a wild hopecame upon them that perhaps the prince had moved more swiftlythan had been planned, that he had crossed the Ebro, and thatthis was his vanguard sweeping to the attack.

"Surely I see the red pile of Chandos at the head of yondersquadron!" cried Sir Richard Causton, shading his eyes with hishand.

"Not so," answered Sir Simon Burley, who had watched theapproaching host with a darkening face. "It is even as I feared.That is the double eagle of Du Guesclin."

"You say very truly," cried the Earl of Angus. "These are thelevies of France, for I can see the ensigns of the Marshald'Andreghen, with that of the Lord of Antoing and of Briseuil,and of many another from Brittany and Anjou."

"By St. Paul! I am very glad of it," said Sir Nigel. "Of theseSpaniards I know nothing; but the French are very worthygentlemen, and will do what they can for our advancement."

"There are at the least four thousand of them, and all men-at-arms," cried Sir William Felton. "See, there is Bertrandhimself, beside his banner, and there is King Henry, who rides towelcome him. Now they all turn and come into the camp together."

As he spoke, the vast throng of Spaniards and of Frenchmentrooped across the plain, with brandished arms and tossingbanners. All day long the sound of revelry and of rejoicing fromthe crowded camp swelled up to the ears of the Englishmen, andthey could see the soldiers of the two nations throwingthemselves into each other's arms and dancing hand-in-hand roundthe blazing fires. The sun had sunk behind a cloud-bank in thewest before Sir Nigel at last gave word that the men shouldresume their arms and have their horses ready. He had himselfthrown off his armor, and had dressed himself from head to footin the harness of the captured Spaniard.

"Sir William," said he, "it is my intention to attempt a smalldeed, and I ask you therefore that you will lead this outfallupon the camp. For me, I will ride into their camp with mysquire and two archers. I pray you to watch me, and to rideforth when I am come among the tents. You will leave twenty menbehind here, as we planned this morning, and you will ride backhere after you have ventured as far as seems good to you."

"I will do as you order, Nigel; but what is it that you proposeto do?"

"You will see anon, and indeed it is but a trifling matter.Alleyne, you will come with me, and lead a spare horse by thebridle. I will have the two archers who rode with us throughFrance, for they are trusty men and of stout heart. Let themride behind us, and let them leave their bows here among thebushes for it is not my wish that they should know that we areEnglishmen. Say no word to any whom we may meet, and, if anyspeak to you, pass on as though you heard them not. Are youready?"

"I am ready, my fair lord," said Alleyne.

"And I," "And I," cried Aylward and John.

"Then the rest I leave to your wisdom, Sir William; and if Godsends us fortune we shall meet you again in this gorge ere it bedark."

So saying, Sir Nigel mounted the white horse of the Spanishcavalier, and rode quietly forth from his concealment with histhree companions behind him, Alleyne leading his master's ownsteed by the bridle. So many small parties of French and Spanishhorse were sweeping hither and thither that the small bandattracted little notice, and making its way at a gentle trotacross the plain, they came as far as the camp without challengeor hindrance. On and on they pushed past the endless lines oftents, amid the dense swarms of horsemen and of footmen, untilthe huge royal pavilion stretched in front of them. They wereclose upon it when of a sudden there broke out a wild hubbub froma distant portion of the camp, with screams and war-cries and allthe wild tumult of battle. At the sound soldiers came rushingfrom their tents, knights shouted loudly for their squires, andthere was mad turmoil on every hand of bewildered men andplunging horses. At the royal tent a crowd of gorgeously dressedservants ran hither and thither in helpless panic for the guardof soldiers who were stationed there had already ridden off inthe direction of the alarm. A man-at-arms on either side of thedoorway were the sole protectors of the royal dwelling.

"I have come for the king," whispered Sir Nigel; "and, by SaintPaul! he must back with us or I must bide here."

Alleyne and Aylward sprang from their horses, and flew at the twosentries, who were disarmed and beaten down in an instant by sofurious and unexpected an attack. Sir Nigel dashed into theroyal tent, and was followed by Hordle John as soon as the horseshad been secured. From within came wild screamings and the clashof steel, and then the two emerged once more, their swords andforearms reddened with blood, while John bore over his shoulderthe senseless body of a man whose gay surcoat, adorned with thelions and towers of Castile, proclaimed him to belong to theroyal house. A crowd of white-faced sewers and pages swarmed attheir heels, those behind pushing forwards, while the foremostshrank back from the fierce faces and reeking weapons of theadventurers. The senseless body was thrown across the sparehorse, the four sprang to their saddles, and away they thunderedwith loose reins and busy spurs through the swarming camp.

But confusion and disorder still reigned among the Spaniards forSir William Felton and his men had swept through half their camp,leaving a long litter of the dead and the dying to mark theircourse. Uncertain who were their attackers, and unable to telltheir English enemies from their newly-arrived Breton allies, theSpanish knights rode wildly hither and thither in aimless fury.The mad turmoil, the mixture of races, and the fading light, wereall in favor of the four who alone knew their own purpose amongthe vast uncertain multitude. Twice ere they reached open groundthey had to break their way through small bodies of horses, andonce there came a whistle of arrows and singing of stones abouttheir ears; but, still dashing onwards, they shot out from amongthe tents and found their own comrades retreating for themountains at no very great distance from them. Another fiveminutes of wild galloping over the plain, and they were all backin their gorge, while their pursuers fell back before the rollingof drums and blare of trumpets, which seemed to proclaim that thewhole army of the prince was about to emerge from the mountainpasses.

"By my soul! Nigel," cried Sir Oliver, waving a great boiled hamover his head, "I have come by something which I may eat with mytruffles! I had a hard fight for it, for there were three ofthem with their mouths open and the knives in their hands, allsitting agape round the table, when I rushed in upon them. Howsay you, Sir William, will you not try the smack of the famedSpanish swine, though we have but the brook water to wash itdown?"

"Later, Sir Oliver," answered the old soldier, wiping his grimedface. "We must further into the mountains ere we be in safety.But what have we here, Nigel?"

"It is a prisoner whom I have taken, and in sooth, as he camefrom the royal tent and wears the royal arms upon his jupon, Itrust that he is the King of Spain."

"The King of Spain!" cried the companions, crowding round inamazement.

"Nay, Sir Nigel," said Felton, peering at the prisoner throughthe uncertain light, "I have twice seen Henry of Transtamare, andcertes this man in no way resembles him."

"Then, by the light of heaven! I will ride back for him," criedSir Nigel.

"Nay, nay, the camp is in arms, and it would be rank madness.Who are you, fellow?" he added in Spanish, "and how is it thatyou dare to wear the arms of Castile?"

The prisoner was bent recovering the consciousness which had beensqueezed from him by the grip of Hordle John. "If it pleaseyou," he answered, "I and nine others are the body-squires of theking, and must ever wear his arms, so as to shield him from evensuch perils as have threatened him this night. The king is at thetent of the brave Du Guesclin, where he will sup to night. But Iam a caballero of Aragon, Don Sancho Penelosa, and, though I beno king, I am yet ready to pay a fitting price for my ransom."

"By Saint Paul! I will not touch your gold," cried Sir Nigel. "Goback to your master and give him greeting from Sir Nigel Loringof Twynham Castle, telling him that I had hoped to make hisbetter acquaintance this night, and that, if I have disorderedhis tent, it was but in my eagerness to know so famed andcourteous a knight. Spur on, comrades! for we must cover many aleague ere we can venture to light fire or to loosen girth. I hadhoped to ride without this patch to-night, but it seems that Imust carry it yet a little longer."