the whole eastern sky-line, with the glint of spears and the flutter of pennons, which announced the approach of a large body of cavalry. For a moment a wild hope came upon them that perhaps the prince had moved more swiftly than had been planned, that he had crossed the Ebro, and that this was his vanguard sweeping to the attack.
'Surely I see the red pile of Chandos at the head of yonder squadron!' cried Sir Richard Causton, shading his eyes with his hand.
'Not so,' answered Sir Simon Burley, who had watched the approaching 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 the levies of France, for I can see the ensigns of the Marshal d'Andreghen, with that of the Lord of Antoing and of Briseuil, and of many another from Brittany and Anjou.'
'By Saint Paul! I am very glad of it,' said Sir Nigel. 'Of these Spaniards I know nothing; but the French are very worthy gentlemen, 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 Bertrand himself, beside his banner, and there is King Henry, who rides to welcome him. Now they all turn and come into the camp together.'
As he spoke, the vast throng of Spaniards and of Frenchmen trooped across the plain, with brandished arms and tossing banners. All day long the sound of revelry and of rejoicing from the crowded camp swelled up to the ears of the Englishmen, and they could see the soldiers of the two nations throwing themselves into each other's arms and dancing hand-in-hand round the blazing fires. The sun had sunk behind a cloud-bank in the west before Sir Nigel at last gave word that the men should resume their arms and have their horses ready. He had himself thrown off his armour, and had dressed himself from head to foot in the harness of the captured Spaniard.
