ngly shore. Here, however, was neither wind nor sea, and yet the dull
murmur rose ever louder and stronger out of the heart of the rolling sea
of vapor. He turned and ran to the camp, shouting an alarm at the top of
his voice.

It was but a hundred paces, and yet ere he had crossed it every bowman
was ready at his horse's head, and the group of knights were out and
listening intently to the ominous sound.

"It is a great body of horse," said Sir William Felton, "and they are
riding very swiftly hitherwards."

"Yet they must be from the prince's army," remarked Sir Richard Causton,
"for they come from the north."

"Nay," said the Earl of Angus, "it is not so certain; for the peasant
with whom we spoke last night said that it was rumored that Don Tello,
the Spanish king's brother, had ridden with six thousand chosen men to
beat up the prince's camp. It may be that on their backward road they
have come this way."

"By St. Paul!" cried Sir Nigel, "I think that it is even as you say, for
that same peasant had a sour face and a shifting eye, as one who bore us
little good will. I doubt not that he has brought these cavaliers upon
us."

"But the mist covers us," said Sir Simon Burley. "We have yet time to
ride through the further end of the pass."

"Were we a troop of mountain goats we might do so," answered Sir William
Felton, "but it is not to be passed by a company of horsemen. If these
be indeed Don Tello and his men, then we must bide where we are, and do
what we can to make them rue the day that they found us in their path."

"Well spoken, William!" cried Sir Nigel, in high delight. "If there be
so many as has been said, then there will be much honor to be gained
from them and every hope of advancement. But the sound has ceased, and I
fear that they have gone some other way."

"Or mayhap they have come to the mouth of the gorge, and are marshalling
their ranks. Hush and hearken! for they are no great way from us."

The Company stood peering into the dense fog-wreath, amidst a silence so
profound that the dripping of the water from the rocks and the breathing
of the horses grew loud upon the ear. Suddenly from out the sea of mist
came the shrill sound of a neigh, followed by a long blast upon a bugle.

"It is a Spanish call, my fair lord," said Black Simon. "It is used by
their prickers and huntsmen when the beast hath not fled, but is still
in its lair."

"By my faith!" said Sir Nigel, smiling, "if they are