e help of John Ingram,
the stalwart yeoman, was fastening his charge, the pennon, to a mighty
lance of the toughest ash-wood, and often looking forth on the white
tents on which the moonbeams shed their pale, tranquil light. There
was much to impress a mind like his, in the scene before him: the
unearthly moonlight, the few glimmering stars, the sky--whose southern
clearness and brightness were, to his unaccustomed eye, doubly
wonderful--the constant though subdued sounds in the camp, the murmur
of the river, and, far away in the dark expanse of night, the sparkling
of a multitude of lights, which marked the encampment of the enemy.
There was a strange calm awe upon his spirit. He spoke in a low voice,
and Gaston's careless light-hearted tones fell on his ear as something
uncongenial; but his eye glanced brightly, his step was free and bold,
as he felt that this was the day that must silence every irritating
doubt of his possessing a warrior-spirit.

The first red streak of dawn was beginning to glow in the eastern sky,
when the note of a bugle rang out from the Prince's tent and was
responded to by hundreds of other horns. That instant the quiet
slumbering camp awoke, the space in front of every tent was filled with
busy men, arming themselves, or saddling their horses. Gaston and
Eustace, already fully equipped, assisted Sir Reginald to arm; Leonard
was roused, and began to fasten on his armour; the men-at-arms came
forth from their tent, and the horses were saddled and bridled; "And
now," called Sir Reginald, "bring our last loaf, John Ingram. Keep
none back. By this day's eve we shall have abundance, or else no
further need."

The hard dry barley-bread was shared in scanty, but equal measure, and
scarcely had it been devoured, before a second bugle blast, pealing
through the camp, caused each mail-clad warrior to close his visor, and
spring into the open plain, where, according to previous orders, they
arrayed themselves in two divisions, the first commanded by the Duke of
Lancaster and Sir John Chandos, the second by Prince Edward and Don
Pedro.

After a pause, employed in marshalling the different bands, the host
advanced at an even pace, the rising sun glancing on their armour, and
revealing the multitude of waving crests, and streamers fluttering from
the points of the lances, like the wings of gorgeous insects.
Presently a wall of glittering armour was seen advancing to meet them,
with the same brilli