Then at last after passing Lusignan they began to come in touch
with English foragers, mounted bowmen for the most part, who were
endeavoring to collect supplies either for the army or for
themselves. From them Nigel learned that the Prince, with Chandos
ever at his side, was hastening south and might be met within a
short day's march. As he still advanced these English stragglers
became more and more numerous, until at last he overtook a
considerable column of archers moving in the same direction as his
own party. These were men whose horses had failed them and who
had therefore been left behind on the advance, but were now
hastening to be in time for the impending battle. A crowd of
peasant girls accompanied them upon their march, and a whole train
of laden mules were led beside them.
Nigel and his little troop of men-at-arms were riding past the
archers when Black Simon with a sudden exclamation touched his
leader upon the arm.
"See yonder, fair sir," he cried, with gleaming eyes, "there where
the wastrel walks with the great fardel upon his back! Who is he
who marches behind him?"
Nigel looked, and was aware of a stunted peasant who bore upon his
rounded back an enormous bundle very much larger than himself.
Behind him walked a burly broad-shouldered archer, whose stained
jerkin and battered headpiece gave token of long and hard service.
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