Great, then, was the exultation of the French when they saw how much terror they had inspired in the heart of the foe.  They were eagerly observing their movements; they saw that a council had been called amongst the chiefs, and that deliberations had been entered into by them.  But so valiant were the English in fight, and so many were the victories they had obtained with numbers far inferior to those of the foe, that there was a natural sense of uncertainty as to the result of a battle, even when all the chances of the war seemed to be against the foreign foe.  But when the trumpets actually sounded the retreat, and they saw the whole body moving slowly away, then indeed did they feel that triumph was near, and a great shout of derision and anger rose up in the still evening air.

“To horse, men, and after them!” was the word given, and a cry of fierce joy went up from the whole army.  “My Lords of England, you will not get off in that way.  You have come hither by your own will; you shall not leave until you have paid your scot.”

No great order was observed as the Frenchmen sprang to horse and galloped across the bridge, and so after the retreating foe.  Every man was eager to bear his share in the discomfiture of the English contingent, and hardly staying to arm themselves fully, the eager, hot-headed French soldiers, horse and foot, swung along in any sort of order, only eager to cut to pieces the flower of the English chivalry (as their leaders had dubbed this little band), and inflict a dark stain upon the honour of Edward’s brilliant arms.

In the ranks of this same English contingent, now in rapid and orderly retreat, there was to the full as much exultation and lust of battle as in the hearts of their pursuing foes.  Every man grasped his weapon and set his teeth firmly, the footmen marching steadily onwards at a rapid and swinging pace, whilst the horsemen, who brought up the rear —­ for they were to be the first to charge when the trumpet sounded the advance —­ kept turning their heads to watch the movement of the foe, and sent up a brief huzzah as they saw that their ruse had proved successful, and that their foes were coming fast after them.

“Keep thou by my side in the battle today, Raymond,” said Gaston, as he looked to the temper of his weapons and glanced backwards over his shoulder.  “Thou hast been something more familiar with the pen than the sword of late —­ and thy faithful esquire likewise.  Fight, then, by my side, and together we will meet and overcome the foe.  They will fight like wolves, I doubt not, for they will be bitterly wrathful when they see the trick we have played upon them.  Wherefore quit not my side, be the fighting never so hot, for I would have thee ever with me.”

“I wish for nothing better for myself,” answered Raymond, with a fond proud glance at the stalwart Gaston, who now towered a full head taller above him, and was a very king amongst men.