had been rumours of hostile
movement from the South, from Provence and Roussillon; of a juncture of
Prince John, known to be in Gascony, with the Queen's brother of
Navarre. Nothing was known certainly, but Richard judged that John might
be tempted out. It was a bright cold day, cloudless, with a most bitter
north-east wind singing in the bents. Des Barres, sitting his horse on
the hill, blew upon his ungauntleted hand, then flacked it against his
side to drive the blood back. Surveying the field with a hunter's eye,
he saw King Richard ride out of the lines on his chestnut horse,
Mercadet with him, and (in a green cloak) Gaston of Bearn. Richard had a
red surcoat and a blown red plume in his cap. He carried no shield, and
by the ease with which he turned his body to look behind him, one hand
on the crupper, Des Barres was sure that he was not in mail.

'Folly of a fool!' he snorted to his neighbour, Savaric de Dreux: 'there
pricks our lord the King, as if to a party of hawks.'

'Wait,' said Savaric. 'Where away now?

'To bandy gibes with Saint-Pol, pardieu. Where else should he go at this
hour?'

'Saint-Pol will never do him a villainy,' said Savaric.

'No, no. But De Gurdun is there.'

'Wait now,' says Savaric again. 'Look, look! Who comes out of the
smoke?'

They could see the beleaguered tower perfectly, brown and warm-looking
in the sun; below it, still smoking, the village of Chaluz, a heap of
charred brickwork. They saw a man in clean white come creeping out of
the smoke, stooping at a run. He hid wherever he could behind the broken
wall, but always ran nearer, stooped and ran with bent body over his
bent knees. He worked his way thus, gradually nearer and nearer to the
tower; and Des Barres watched him anxiously.

'Some camp-thief making off--'

'Look, look!' cried Savaric. The white man had come out by the tower,
was now kneeling in the open; at the same moment a man slipped down a
rope from the tower-top. Before he had touched earth they saw the
kneeling man pull a bowstring to his ear and let fly. Next the fellow on
the rope, touching ground, ran fleetly forward and, springing on the
white-robed man, drove him to the earth. They saw the flash of a blade.

'That is strange warfare,' said Des Barres, greatly interested.

'There is warfare in heaven also,' said Savaric. 'See those two eagles.'
Two great birds were battling in the cold blue. Feathers fell idly, like
black snow-flakes; then one of the