s on the just and the
unjust; and the unjust, that is the French, or rather the Italians whom
they hire, use these new-fangled cross-bows which as you know cannot be
cased like ours, and therefore stretch their strings in wet."

"Master," remarked Dick, "I did not think you had so much wit--that is,
since you fell in love, for before then you were sharp enough. Well, you
are right, and a little matter like that may turn a battle. Not but what
I had thought of it already."

Hugh was about to answer with spirit, when a sound of distant shouting
broke upon their ears, a very mighty sound, and next instant some
outposts were seen galloping in, calling: "Arm! Arm! The French! The
French!"

Suddenly there appeared thousands of cross-bow men, in thick, wavering
lines, and behind them the points of thousands of spears, whose bearers
as yet were hidden by the living screen of the Italian archers. Yes,
before them was the mighty host of France glittering in the splendid
light of the westering sun, which shone full into their faces.

The irregular lines halted. Perhaps there was something in the aspect
of those bands of Englishmen still seated in silence on the ground, with
never a horse among them, that gave them pause. Then, as though at a
word of command, the Genoese cross-bow men set up a terrific shout.

"Do they think to make us run at a noise, like hares?" said Hugh
contemptuously.

But Grey Dick made no answer, for already his pale eyes were fixed
upon the foe with a stare that Hugh thought was terrible, and his
long fingers were playing with the button of his bow-case. The Genoese
advanced a little way, then again stood and shouted, but still the
English sat silent.

A third time they advanced and shouted more loudly than before, then
began to wind up their cross-bows.

From somewhere in the English centre rose a heavy, thudding sound which
was new to war. It came from the mouths of cannons now for the first
time fired on a field of battle, and at the report of them the Genoese,
frightened, fell back a little. Seeing that the balls fell short and did
but hop toward them slowly, they took courage again and began to loose
their bolts.

"You're right, master," exclaimed Grey Dick in a fierce chuckle, "their
strings _are_ wet," and he pointed to the quarrels that, like the cannon
balls, struck short, some within fifty paces of those who shot them, so
that no man was hurt.

Now came a swift command, and the Englis