Nevertheless, during the whole night of Thursday, the 24th of October, from hamlet and village, from priory and castle, from tent and field, wherever the English were quartered, rose up wild bursts of martial music floating on the air to the French camp, as, round the innumerable watch-fires which lighted the whole sky with their lurid glare, sat the myriads the enemy in their wide extended position at Roussauville and Agincourt.
In one of the small villages near the head-quarters of the King, was stationed Sir John Grey, who now having recovered all the great possessions of his family, appeared in the field at the head of a large body of men, whose services under his banner procured for him, at an after period, as the reader is probably aware, the earldom of Tankerville. The house which he inhabited during that night, was the dwelling of a farmer; and in one of the small rooms thereof sat Richard of Woodville, at about eleven o'clock at night, conversing with Mary's father, with a somewhat gloomy and anxious air.
"I have seen it myself, Richard," said Sir John Grey; "the superscription is clear and distinct--'To Sir Thomas Grey, Knight,'--and not one word is mentioned therein of anything like ransom."
"Then it has been falsified!" cried Richard of Woodville; "for my letter was to you. Why should I write to Sir Thomas Grey, a man I know nought of? I never saw him--hardly ever heard of him. Even now I am scarcely aware of who he was, or what he did."
"He was an arch villain, Richard," replied the knight. "The only one, of all the three, who took the gold of France. Cambridge and Scroop has other views, which they nobly hid within their own bosoms, lest they should injure others; but this man was a traitor indeed, and he, ere his death, gave this letter, it seems, into the King's own hands, as that which began his communication with the enemy. He even laid his death at your door, for having written to him by the French suborner.--But here is Sir Henry Dacre.--What is it you seek, good knight? You seem eager about something."
"There are people without requiring to speak with you, Sir John," answered Woodville's friend. "They have got a man in their hands, who, they say, is a knave, sent to you by one you know."
"I want no knaves," replied Sir John Grey; "but I will see who it is;" and he went out.
"Now, what speed, my friend?" continued Dacre, grasping Woodville's hand; "what says Sir John?"
"That it must not be," said Richard of Woodville. "That his duty to the King would not suffer it, even were I his son."
"Then we must try other means," answered Dacre hastily. "You shall fight to-morrow, Woodville. God forbid that you should lose a field like this. You shall take my armour, and I will ride in a different suit. Only be ready, at a moment's notice," he added; "for as soon as Sir John is in the field, I will bear you off from the men he leaves on guard."