To some of us perchance it is the last night, so we would
make it a full one."
But the gallant Breton shook his head. "It may indeed be the last
night for many," said he, "and it is but right that my comrades
should know it. I have no need of monk or friar, for I cannot
think that harm will ever come beyond the grave to one who has
borne himself as a knight should, but others have other thoughts
upon these matters and would fain have time for prayer and
penitence. Adieu, fair sirs, and I drink a last glass to a happy
meeting at the midway oak."
XXIII. HOW THIRTY OF JOSSELIN ENCOUNTERED THIRTY OF PLOERMEL
All night the Castle of Ploermel rang with warlike preparations,
for the smiths were hammering and filing and riveting, preparing
the armor for the champions. In the stable yard hostlers were
testing and grooming the great war-horses, whilst in the chapel
knights and squires were easing their souls at the knees of old
Father Benedict.
Down in the courtyard, meanwhile, the men-at-arms had been
assembled, and the volunteers weeded out until the best men had
been selected. Black Simon had obtained a place, and great was
the joy which shone upon his grim visage. With him were chosen
young Nicholas Dagsworth, a gentleman adventurer who was nephew to
the famous Sir Thomas, Walter the German, Hulbitee--a huge
peasant whose massive frame gave promise which his sluggish spirit
failed to fulfil--John Alcock, Robin Adey and Raoul Provost.
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