Now the little army, passing by pleasant hedgerows and fertile fields, reaches the borders of the Ordega, crossed by a wooden bridge so narrow that much time is occupied by the passage of the troops.
A sound of the approach of many horsemen, galloping rapidly, comes from the road they have just traversed, and clouds of dust from the dry soil sweep to the height of the tree-tops. Voices are heard, and the roll of drums and the call of trumpets, but nothing as yet is seen.
“We are set upon by foes,” shouts Don Ricardo, hastily seeking out Bernardo, who, with a set white face, watches, immovable in the saddle, the passage of the knights across the bridge.
“Foes,” answers Bernardo, with a mocking laugh; “methinks, Ricardo, you are suddenly grown blind not to recognise your countrymen. These are no foes, but our own townsmen come out to join us.”
As he speaks, nearer and nearer comes the clamour, and louder and louder upon the breeze rises the cry, “El Rey, El Rey,” echoing back from a thousand voices along the line.
“Yes, it is he,” says Bernardo to those around. “I know him by his helmet, set with gems, and the fur collar over his corselet. By the rood, it is well he acknowledges his wrong.”
And as he turns his eyes upon Don Alonso, such a loathing possesses him, nothing but the cause he has in hand keeps his hand from his weapon to avenge his wrong.
Meanwhile the king’s arrival in face of the army is greeted by a shout so long and loud mountain and hill ring with it.
In the tall, thin warrior, with a long white beard, nobly wearing a regal diadem about his burnished helmet, no one would recognise the emaciated anchorite who scourged and starved himself. The words of Bernardo have stung him to the quick. He has cast off the delusions which filled his brain; the French monks have been sent whence they came, the armed messenger dismissed, the pledges given to Charlemagne have been withdrawn. Even the horror of his sister’s sin in the person of Bernardo has yielded to the nobleness of his conduct, and like a man distraught suddenly restored to his right senses, he has ridden out to join him.
The shouts of the crowd (for the distance from Leon has not prevented many of the citizens following the soldiers) for a time drowns every other sound.