But now there was a distant crash and a roar of "Saint George for
Guienne!" from behind. The Captal de Buch had charged home.
"Saint George for England!" yelled the main attack, and ever the
counter-cry came back to them from afar. The ranks opened in
front of them. The French were giving way. A small knight with
golden scroll-work upon his armor threw himself upon the Prince
and was struck dead by his mace. It was the Duke of Athens,
Constable of France, but none had time to note it, and the fight
rolled on over his body. Looser still were the French ranks.
Many were turning their horses, for that ominous roar from the
rear had shaken their resolution. The little English wedge poured
onward, the Prince, Chandos, Audley and Nigel ever in the van.
A huge warrior in black, bearing a golden banner, appeared
suddenly in a gap of the shredding ranks. He tossed his precious
burden to a squire, who bore it away. Like a pack of hounds on
the very haunch of a deer the English rushed yelling for the
oriflamme. But the black warrior flung himself across their path.
"Chargny! Chargny a la recousse!" he roared with a voice of
thunder. Sir Reginald Cobham dropped before his battle-ax, so did
the Gascon de Clisson. Nigel was beaten down on to the crupper of
his horse by a sweeping blow; but at the same instant Chandos'
quick blade passed through the Frenchman's camail and pierced his
throat.
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