There had been work enough to fill their minds and hands for the whole time the Prince had been able to spare them from his side; and an interchange of letters between him and his lady love had helped Raymond to bear the long separation from her.  She had assured him of her changeless devotion, of her present happiness and wellbeing, and had bidden him think first of his duty to the Prince, and second of his desire to rejoin her.  They owed much to the Prince:  all their present happiness and security were the outcome of his generous interposition on their behalf.  Raymond’s worldly affairs were not suffering by his absence.  Master Bernard de Brocas was looking to that.  He would find all well on his return to England; and it were better he should do his duty nobly by the Prince now, and return with him when they had subdued their enemies, than hasten at once to her side.  In days to come it would grieve them to feel that they had at this juncture thought first of themselves, when King and country should have taken the foremost place.

So Raymond had taken the counsel thus given, and now was one of those to be foremost in the field on the morrow.  No thought of fear was in his heart or Gaston’s; peril was too much the order of the day to excite any but a passing sense of the uncertainty of human life.  They had come unscathed through so much, and Raymond had so long been said to bear a charmed life, that he and Gaston had alike ceased to tremble before the issue of a battle.  Well armed and well mounted, and versed in every art of attack and defence, the young knights felt no personal fear, and only longed to come forth with honour from the contest, whatever else their fate might be.

Monday morning dawned, and the two opposing armies were all in readiness for the attack.  The fighting began almost by accident by the bold action of a Gascon knight, Eustace d’Ambrecicourt, who rode out alone towards what was called the “battle of the marshals,” and was met by Louis de Recombes with his silver shield, whom he forthwith unhorsed.  This provoked a rapid advance of the marshals’ battle, and the fighting began in good earnest.

The moment this was soon to have taken place, the brave James Audley, calling upon his four knights to follow him, dashed in amongst the French in another part of the field, giving no quarter, taking no prisoners, but performing such prodigies of valour as struck terror into the breasts of the foe.  The French army (with the exception of three hundred horsemen, whose mission was to break the ranks of the bowmen) had been ordered, on account of the nature of the ground, all to fight on foot; and when the bold knight and his four chosen companions came charging in upon them, wheeling their battle-axes round their heads and flashing through the ranks like a meteor, the terrified and impressionable Frenchmen cried out that St. George himself had appeared to fight against them, and an unreasoning panic seized upon them.