u not his
wisdom now, Sir John? In his retreat he draweth Sir Pertolepe's main
battle athwart our line of charge, their flank exposed and open--to
horse, Sir John, to horse! Yet stir not until I give the word."
Forthwith sprang Sir John to saddle and Roger and Ulf also, what time
Beltane sat, his gaze upon the conflict, his bugle-horn in his hand; of
a sudden he clapped it to lip and sounded the old fierce rallying note.
High and shrill and loud it rang above the roar of battle, and lo!
distant and far, like an answer to the call, from the grim and battered
tower of Brand a mighty shout went up--"Arise! Arise!--Pentavalon!"

"Oho!" cried Roger, sitting close on Beltane's left, "list ye to that,
now! And see--ha! there cometh our long-legged Walkyn, first of them
all! See how they order their pikes--O master, they be sweet and
doughty fellows! See how Jenkyn's archers shoot--each man to the ear!"

Awhile sat Beltane watching, wide-eyed, while Sir Benedict, fighting
sword in hand, fell back and back before the furious onset of Sir
Pertolepe's main battle until he had drawn the fight mid-way. Then,
quick-breathing, my Beltane closed his vizor.

"Now!" cried he, "now, good comrades all, God willing, we have them.
Let each man choose his foe and smite this day for Liberty and
Justice!"

So saying, he levelled his lance, and a hundred lances sank behind him.
Spurs struck deep, horses reared, plunged, and sped away. Before their
galloping line rode Sir John of Griswold with Roger and Ulf: and before
these, Beltane.

He felt the wind a-whistle through the eye-vents of his casque, heard
the muffled thunder of the galloping hoofs behind mingled with the
growing din of battle; heard a shout--a roar of anger and dismay, saw a
confusion of rearing horses as Sir Pertolepe swung about to meet this
new attack, steadied his aim, and with his hundred lances thundering
close behind, drove in upon those bristling ranks to meet them shield
to shield with desperate shock of onset--felt his tough lance go home
with jarring crash--saw horses that reared high and were gone, lost
beneath the trampling fray, and found his lance shivered to the very
grip. Out flashed his sword, for all about him was a staggering press
of horses that neighed and screamed, and men who smote, shouting, and
were smitten; unseen blows battered him while he thrust and hewed, and
wondered to see his long blade so dimmed and bloody. And ever as he
fought, through th