long is it, my Lord Chandos," said he hotly, "since you have taken
it upon yourself to wear my arms?"

Chandos smiled. "It is surely you who have mine," said he, "since this
surcoat was worked for thee by the good nuns of Windsor a long year
ago."

"If it were not for the truce," said Clermont, "I would soon show you
that you have no right to wear it."

"Look for it then in the battle to-morrow, and I also will look for
yours," Chandos answered. "There we can very honorably settle the
matter."

But the Frenchman was choleric and hard to appease. "You English can
invent nothing," said he, "and you take for your own whatever you see
handsome belonging to others." So, grumbling and fuming, he rode upon
his way, while Chandos, laughing gayly, spurred onward across the plain.

The immediate front of the English line was shrouded with scattered
trees and bushes which hid the enemy; but when they had cleared these a
fair view of the great French army lay before them. In the center of
the huge camp was a long and high pavilion of red silk, with the silver
lilies of the King at one end of it, and the golden oriflamme, the
battle-flag of old France, at the other. Like the reeds of a pool from
side to side of the broad array, and dwindling away as far as their
eyes could see, were the banners and pennons of high barons and famous
knights, but above them all flew the ducal standards which showed that
the feudal muster of all the warlike provinces of France was in the
field before them.

With a kindling eye Chandos looked across at the proud ensigns of
Normandy, or Burgundy, of Auvergne, of Champagne, of Vermandois, and
of Berry, flaunting and gleaming in the rays of the sinking sun. Riding
slowly down the line he marked with attentive gaze the camp of the
crossbowmen, the muster of the German mercenaries, the numbers of the
foot-soldiers, the arms of every proud vassal or vavasor which might
give some guide as to the power of each division. From wing to wing and
round the flanks he went, keeping ever within crossbow-shot of the
army, and then at last having noted all things in his mind he turned his
horse's head and rode slowly back, heavy with thought, to the English
lines.

XXV. HOW THE KING OF FRANCE HELD COUNSEL AT MAUPERTUIS

The morning of Sunday, the nineteenth of September, in the year of our
Lord 1356, was cold and fine. A haze which rose from the marshy valley
of Muisson covered both camps and set the s