“Sire,” he said, bending the knee before his youthful lord, “I long ago vowed a vow that if ever I should find myself upon the field of battle with the King of England or his son, I would be foremost in the fight for his defence.  Sire, that day has now dawned —­ or will dawn with tomorrow’s sun.  Grant me, I pray you, leave to be the first to charge into yon host, and so fulfil the vow long registered before God.”

“Good Sir James, it shall be even as thou wilt,” answered the Prince, extending his hand.  “But if thou goest thus into peril, sure thou wilt not go altogether alone?”

“I will choose out four knightly comrades,” answered Sir James, “and together we will ride into the battle.  I know well that there will be no lack of brave men ready and willing to fight at my side.  Gaston de Brocas has claimed already to be one, and his brother ever strives to be at his side.  But he has yet his spurs to win, and I may but take with me those who are knights already.”

“Raymond de Brocas’s spurs unwon!” cried the Prince, with kindling eye, “and he the truest knight amongst us!  Call him hither this moment to me.  Shame upon me that I have not ere this rewarded such pure and lofty courage as his by that knighthood he so well merits!”

And then and there upon the field of Poitiers Raymond received his knighthood, amid the cheers of the bystanders, from the hands of the Prince, on the eve of one of England’s most glorious victories.

Gaston’s eyes were shining with pride as he led his brother back to their tent as the last of the September daylight faded from the sky.

“I had set my heart on sending thee back to thy Joan with the spurs of knighthood won,” he said, affectionately pressing his brother’s hands.  “And truly, as they all say, none were ever more truly won than thine have been, albeit thou wilt ever be more the saint than the warrior.”

Raymond’s eyes were bright.  For Joan’s sake rather than his own he rejoiced in his new honour; though every man prided himself upon that welcome distinction, especially when bestowed by the hand of King or Prince.  And the thought of a speedy return to England and his true love there was as the elixir of life to Raymond, who was counting the days and hours before he might hope to set sail for his native land again.

He had remained with his brother at Saut all through the past winter.  Gaston and Constanza had been married at Bordeaux very shortly after the death of old Navailles; and they had returned to Saut, their future home, and Raymond had gone with them.  Greatly as he longed for England and Joan, his duty to the Prince kept him beside him till he should obtain his dismissal to see after his own private affairs.  The Prince needed his faithful knights and followers about him in his projected expedition of the present year; and Gaston required his brother’s help and counsel in setting to rights the affairs of his new kingdom, and in getting into better order a long-neglected estate and its people.