"
"'Fore God, I knew it!" cried the Duke of Orleans in a voice of
fury. "Whilst we have been talking they have slipped through our
fingers. Did I not warn you?"
"Be silent, Philip!" said the King angrily. "But you, sir, have
you seen this with your own eyes?"
"With my own eyes, sire, and I have ridden straight from their
camp."
King John looked at him with a stern gaze. "I know not how it
accords with your honor to carry such tidings in such a fashion,"
said he; "but we cannot choose but take advantage of it. Fear
not, brother Philip, it is in my mind that you will see all that
you would wish of the Englishmen before nightfall. Should we fall
upon them whilst they cross the ford it will be to our advantage.
Now, fair sirs, I pray you to hasten to your posts and to carry
out all that we have agreed. Advance the oriflamme, Geoffrey, and
do you marshal the divisions, Arnold. So may God and Saint Denis
have us in their holy keeping this day!"
The Prince of Wales stood upon that little knoll where Nigel had
halted the day before. Beside him were Chandos, and a tall
sun-burned warrior of middle age, the Gascon Captal de Buch. The
three men were all attentively watching the distant French lines,
while behind them a column of wagons wound down to the ford of the
Muisson.
Close in the rear four knights in full armor with open visors sat
their horses and conversed in undertones with each other.
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