d throats as this answer
was listened to by the Prince's knights, and the cheer was taken up and
echoed by every soldier in the camp. It was the signal, as all knew
well, that negotiation had failed; and the good Cardinal went
sorrowfully back to the French lines, whilst the English soldiers
redoubled their efforts at trenching the ground and strengthening their
position -- efforts which had been carried on ceaselessly all through
this and the preceding day, regardless of the negotiations for peace,
which many amongst them hoped would prove abortive.

Then up to the Prince's side stepped bold Sir James Audley, who had been
his counsellor and adviser during the whole of the campaign, and by
whose advice the coming battle was being arranged.

"Sire," he said, bending the knee before his youthful lord, "I long ago
vowed a vow that if ever I should find myself upon the field of battle
with the King of England or his son, I would be foremost in the fight
for his defence. Sire, that day has now dawned -- or will dawn with
tomorrow's sun. Grant me, I pray you, leave to be the first to charge
into yon host, and so fulfil the vow long registered before God."

"Good Sir James, it shall be even as thou wilt," answered the Prince,
extending his hand. "But if thou goest thus into peril, sure thou wilt
not go altogether alone?"

"I will choose out four knightly comrades," answered Sir James, "and
together we will ride into the battle. I know well that there will be no
lack of brave men ready and willing to fight at my side. Gaston de
Brocas has claimed already to be one, and his brother ever strives to be
at his side. But he has yet his spurs to win, and I may but take with me
those who are knights already."

"Raymond de Brocas's spurs unwon!" cried the Prince, with kindling eye,
"and he the truest knight amongst us! Call him hither this moment to me.
Shame upon me that I have not ere this rewarded such pure and lofty
courage as his by that knighthood he so well merits!"

And then and there upon the field of Poitiers Raymond received his
knighthood, amid the cheers of the bystanders, from the hands of the
Prince, on the eve of one of England's most glorious victories.

Gaston's eyes were shining with pride as he led his brother back to
their tent as the last of the September daylight faded from the sky.

"I had set my heart on sending thee back to thy Joan with the spurs of
knighthood won," he said, affectionately pressing hi