"Ay, young squire. Right willingly."
"Then in my sorrow I thank Heaven," replied Raymond, and in silence they returned slowly to the camp, Sir Reginald leaning heavily on the arm of the outlaw's son.
The moment the wounded knight was given into safe hands Raymond hastened to his quarters, where he enlisted the services of the priest and four stout archers. The latter took spades and torches with them, and the melancholy procession set out for the scene of Redward's last stand, Raymond with Sir John Hacket, who wished to pay his last respects to his trusted servant, leading the way.
Rapidly the bowmen plied their spades, and soon a deep grave gaped at the foot of the solitary thorn. Raymond bent and kissed the cold brow, then, amid the solemn voice of the priest reciting the psalm, Domine, refugium, the body of the brave old master-bowman was laid to rest.
Bare-headed and dry-eyed, Raymond watched the dark earth being shovelled down upon the mortal remains of his sire, then, when the task was accomplished, he turned and walked slowly back to the camp. There, in the retirement of his tent, his pent-up feelings found relief, and throwing himself on the ground, he burst into a flood of passionate weeping.
[CHAPTER XXI]
THE REJECTED GUERDON
MORNING came, and with it the trumpets again sounded for the troops to assemble. Was it that a renewal of the fight was expected? Nay, for the French were in headlong flight, their King being already well on the way to La Broye. But Edward, sensible of the advantage gained, had determined to advance on Calais.
Silently the weary soldiers fell into their ranks. The archers, their white surcoats soiled with mud and stained with blood, the men-at-arms, with battered armour, and, in many cases, roughly-bandaged wounds, stood grimly in their martial array, conscious of the many comrades who had stood thus but a day before and had gone to their last account.
Suddenly a fanfare of trumpets announced the approach of the King. With his eyes shining with pardonable pride, the monarch rode slowly down the war-worn lines, stopping at intervals to bestow honours and praise as cases of individual merit were pointed out to him. At his right hand rode the Prince of Wales, and attending him were Sir John Chandos, the Earls of Warwick, Arundel, Oxford, and Southampton.
When in front of the Hampshire companies the King again drew rein, and surveyed the stern, determined faces of the men on whom the brunt of the attack had fallen. Sir John Hacket, attended by his three squires, stood in front of his command, the banners, according to custom, being lowered to the ground in the presence of the Sovereign.