the shield he showed a round clear hole in the wood at the back of it.
"My shaft has passed through it, camarade, and I trow the one which goes
through is more to be feared than that which bides on the way."

The Brabanter stamped his foot with mortification, and was about to make
some angry reply, when Alleyne Edricson came riding up to the crowds of
archers.

"Sir Nigel will be here anon," said he, "and it is his wish to speak
with the Company."

In an instant order and method took the place of general confusion.
Bows, steel caps, and jacks were caught up from the grass. A long cordon
cleared the camp of all strangers, while the main body fell into four
lines with under-officers and file-leaders in front and on either flank.
So they stood, silent and motionless, when their leader came riding
towards them, his face shining and his whole small figure swelling with
the news which he bore.

"Great honor has been done to us, men," cried he: "for, of all the army,
the prince has chosen us out that we should ride onwards into the lands
of Spain to spy upon our enemies. Yet, as there are many of us, and as
the service may not be to the liking of all, I pray that those will step
forward from the ranks who have the will to follow me."

There was a rustle among the bowmen, but when Sir Nigel looked up at
them no man stood forward from his fellows, but the four lines of men
stretched unbroken as before. Sir Nigel blinked at them in amazement,
and a look of the deepest sorrow shadowed his face.

"That I should live to see the day!" he cried, "What! not one----"

"My fair lord," whispered Alleyne, "they have all stepped forward."

"Ah, by Saint Paul! I see how it is with them. I could not think that
they would desert me. We start at dawn to-morrow, and ye are to have
the horses of Sir Robert Cheney's company. Be ready, I pray ye, at early
cock-crow."

A buzz of delight burst from the archers, as they broke their ranks and
ran hither and thither, whooping and cheering like boys who have news of
a holiday. Sir Nigel gazed after them with a smiling face, when a heavy
hand fell upon his shoulder.

"What ho! my knight-errant of Twynham!" said a voice, "You are off to
Ebro, I hear; and, by the holy fish of Tobias! you must take me under
your banner."

"What! Sir Oliver Buttesthorn!" cried Sir Nigel. "I had heard that you
were come into camp, and had hoped to see you. Glad and proud shall I be
to have you with me."

"I have