"Then in God's name let us ride forward," cried Geoffrey: "we have punished those poor wretches sufficiently; but they would have it, Heaven pity them!"
On, on once more into the night.
The morn was breaking, streaks of grey light quivered in the sky and the stars were losing their brilliance. They were approaching the confines of Flanders, and as the dawn deepened into day the watch-towers of Maubeuge came in sight. It was a frontier town, and in times of peace its barriers would have been kept by an armed force, not to be passed till all dues and customs had been paid, and all questions fully answered.
As the armed party appeared in view the shrill voice of a trumpet rang out, and men were to be seen hurrying to their places of observation. But the sight of six men in uniform, fully armed, seemed to render all formalities unnecessary, and no resistance to their passage was made as the party rode through the town making no halt in it.
The sun was rising in great splendour; it shone upon a scene that cheered the hearts of the horsemen. All was bright and peaceful, the fields were yellow with corn and the reapers were everywhere at work.
"Oh, blessed peace!" said William to Ralph; "who would not sigh for the time when wars should be no more, when men shall 'beat their swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning hooks'!"
They rode more gently now, for their gallant steeds were beginning to flag. At mid-day the towers and spires of Mons came into sight and the splendid tracery of the glorious Cathedral of St. Wandru, as it displayed itself against a sky of opal blue, filled them with admiration.
Reaching the Grande Place, they halted in front of the Hôtel de la Couronne, and the weary travellers dismounted. They, as well as their horses, needed repose, and Geoffrey decreed a respite of three hours.
All too soon Geoffrey aroused his comrades, who had both dined and slept after they had seen carefully that the needs of their horses had received attention.