ht him gave him powers which he was not slow to use. In it Sir
Claude Latour, the Gascon lieutenant of the White Company, assured him
that there remained in his keeping enough to fit out a hundred archers
and twenty men-at-arms, which, joined to the three hundred veteran
companions already in France, would make a force which any leader might
be proud to command. Carefully and sagaciously the veteran knight chose
out his men from the swarm of volunteers. Many an anxious consultation
he held with Black Simon, Sam Aylward, and other of his more experienced
followers, as to who should come and who should stay. By All Saints'
day, however ere the last leaves had fluttered to earth in the Wilverley
and Holmesley glades, he had filled up his full numbers, and mustered
under his banner as stout a following of Hampshire foresters as ever
twanged their war-bows. Twenty men-at-arms, too, well mounted and
equipped, formed the cavalry of the party, while young Peter Terlake of
Fareham, and Walter Ford of Botley, the martial sons of martial sires,
came at their own cost to wait upon Sir Nigel and to share with Alleyne
Edricson the duties of his squireship.

Yet, even after the enrolment, there was much to be done ere the party
could proceed upon its way. For armor, swords, and lances, there was no
need to take much forethought, for they were to be had both better and
cheaper in Bordeaux than in England. With the long-bow, however, it was
different. Yew staves indeed might be got in Spain, but it was well to
take enough and to spare with them. Then three spare cords should be
carried for each bow, with a great store of arrow-heads, besides the
brigandines of chain mail, the wadded steel caps, and the brassarts or
arm-guards, which were the proper equipment of the archer. Above all,
the women for miles round were hard at work cutting the white surcoats
which were the badge of the Company, and adorning them with the red lion
of St. George upon the centre of the breast. When all was completed and
the muster called in the castle yard the oldest soldier of the French
wars was fain to confess that he had never looked upon a better equipped
or more warlike body of men, from the old knight with his silk jupon,
sitting his great black war-horse in the front of them, to Hordle John,
the giant recruit, who leaned carelessly upon a huge black bow-stave in
the rear. Of the six score, fully half had seen service before, while a
fair sprinkling were