Nor was this all: not two of the party presented the same appearance. One was in a steel corselet,--another in a haubert,--another had neither one nor the other. Some had brassards,--some had cuissards,--some had splints,--some had none at all. In short, it seemed as if they had murdered half-a-dozen men-at-arms, and divided their armour between two hundred; so that when De Coucy thought of presenting himself, thus followed, at the court of Philip Augustus, he was first like to give himself up to despair, and then burst into a loud fit of laughter.
A very slight circumstance, however, changed the face of affairs. As he stood gazing on his ragged troop, with a half-rueful, half-laughing countenance, an ass, apparently loaded with sand, and a man driving it, were seen slowly approaching, as if intending to proceed to the castle.
"By the Lord!" cried the young knight, "this is a Godsend--for, on my word, we shall want sand enough to scrub our armour. What hast thou there, good man?" he added, as the ass and his driver came near.
"Sand for the châtelain de Coucy," replied the man. "Be you he?"
"Yes," answered the knight.--"Sand for me!--What mean you, good friend? You must mistake."
"Not so, beau sire!" replied the driver, approaching and speaking low--"'tis a thousand marks of silver!"
"Ha!--Who from?"
"The price of a ring," replied the man, sent by the holy "Bernard of St. Mandé by me, his humble penitent, to the Sire de Coucy."
"That alters the matter!" cried the knight.--"That alters the matter! Take thy sand to the castle, good friend.--Hugo, ride with all speed to Vernon. Bring me all the armourers of the town, with all the arms they have ready. Send a serf to Gisors on the same errand. A thousand marks of silver! By the Lord that lives! I will equip an army!"