"Then perchance thy wish will be gratified, Arnold," remarked Sampson, the master-bowman. "Prince Henry bore himself like a man at Homildon fight, as thou knowest. Who knows but that ere long we shall follow him to France to win back his own?"
"Pray Heaven it be so," returned the master-at-arms heartily. "For my part, I'd as lief cross the narrow seas as a common soldier. Well I remember my grandsire's tales of how the manhood of England crossed thither in the time of the great Edward. Every mean archer, who went as poor as a church mouse and did not lay his bones on French soil, returned laden with rich booty. Did not my grandsire purchase the copyhold of the farm at Nutbourne out of his ransom of a French knight?"
"But what think you, Master Sampson?" asked an archer eagerly. "Dost think that the new King will make war?"
"He hath by far a better opportunity than Henry of Lancaster, the saints rest his soul," replied the bowman. "That base rebel, Glendower, hath been driven from the Welsh marches, and lies in hiding in the wilds of that leek-ridden country. The Scots, too, are kept well in hand, so that peace on the borders is to be depended upon. The King hath but to raise his hand, and from the length and breadth of the realm the yeomen of England will flock to his banner."
Sir Oliver's retainers were not far from the mark. Like the household of many another knight, his men-at-arms and archers were tolerably well versed in the affairs affecting the kingdom's welfare. To them war was both a trade and the means of following an honourable profession.
Meanwhile the Grâce à Dieu had gained the mouth of the little rithe leading up to the quay, and was preparing to anchor.
Again the excitement rose, but in the midst of the hum of suppressed anticipation an archer called attention to a significant fact: Sir Oliver's shield was not displayed from the ship's quarter.
"Heaven forfend that he be dead," exclaimed Gripwell. "See, the Lady Bertha hath noticed the omission."
Unable to conceal her agitation, the châtelaine, quitting the post of honour, had crossed the drawbridge, and, accompanied by Geoffrey, was hastening towards the wharf, a crowd of archers and men-at-arms following at a respectful distance.
Already the small craft that belonged to the manor had put off to the newly-arrived ship, which, for want of water, could not approach within a bowshot of the shore.