Say no word to any whom we may meet, and, if any
speak to you, pass on as though you heard them not. Are you ready?"

"I am ready, my fair lord," said Alleyne.

"And I," "And I," cried Aylward and John.

"Then the rest I leave to your wisdom, Sir William; and if God sends us
fortune we shall meet you again in this gorge ere it be dark."

So saying, Sir Nigel mounted the white horse of the Spanish cavalier,
and rode quietly forth from his concealment with his three companions
behind him, Alleyne leading his master's own steed by the bridle. So
many small parties of French and Spanish horse were sweeping hither and
thither that the small band attracted little notice, and making its way
at a gentle trot across the plain, they came as far as the camp without
challenge or hindrance. On and on they pushed past the endless lines of
tents, amid the dense swarms of horsemen and of footmen, until the huge
royal pavilion stretched in front of them. They were close upon it when
of a sudden there broke out a wild hubbub from a distant portion of the
camp, with screams and war-cries and all the wild tumult of battle. At
the sound soldiers came rushing from their tents, knights shouted loudly
for their squires, and there was mad turmoil on every hand of bewildered
men and plunging horses. At the royal tent a crowd of gorgeously dressed
servants ran hither and thither in helpless panic for the guard
of soldiers who were stationed there had already ridden off in the
direction of the alarm. A man-at-arms on either side of the doorway were
the sole protectors of the royal dwelling.

"I have come for the king," whispered Sir Nigel; "and, by Saint Paul! he
must back with us or I must bide here."

Alleyne and Aylward sprang from their horses, and flew at the two
sentries, who were disarmed and beaten down in an instant by so furious
and unexpected an attack. Sir Nigel dashed into the royal tent, and was
followed by Hordle John as soon as the horses had been secured. From
within came wild screamings and the clash of steel, and then the two
emerged once more, their swords and forearms reddened with blood,
while John bore over his shoulder the senseless body of a man whose gay
surcoat, adorned with the lions and towers of Castile, proclaimed him
to belong to the royal house. A crowd of white-faced sewers and pages
swarmed at their heels, those behind pushing forwards, while the
foremost shrank back from the fierce faces and reeking weapon