d. Hugh sprang like
a wild-cat at Louis of Flanders, and drove his sword through his throat.
Richard de Beaumont flung the great banner of Wales over the Prince,
hiding him till more help came to beat back the foe. Then the Prince
struggled from the ground, gasping:

"I thank you, friends," and once more the French retreated. The Welsh
banner rose again and that danger was over.

The Earl of Warwick ran up. Hugh noted that his armour was covered with
blood.

"John of Norwich," he cried to an aged knight, who stood leaning on his
sword, "take one with you, away to the King and pray him for aid. The
French gather again; we are outworn with blows; the young Prince is in
danger of his life or liberty. Begone!"

Old John's eyes fell on Hugh.

"Come with me, you Suffolk man," he said, and away they went.

"Now what would you give," he gasped as they ran, "to be drinking a
stoup of ale with me in my tower of Mettingham as you have done before
this red day dawned? What would you give, young Hugh de Cressi?"

"Nothing at all," answered Hugh. "Rather would I die upon this field in
glory than drink all the ale in Suffolk for a hundred years."

"Well said, young man," grunted John. "So do I think would I, though I
have never longed for a quart of liquor more."

They came to a windmill and climbed its steep stairs. On the top
stage, amid the corn sacks stood Edward of England looking through the
window-places.

"Your business, Sir John?" he said, scarcely turning his head.

The old knight told it shortly.

"My son is not dead and is not wounded," replied the King, "and I have
none to send to his aid. Bid him win his spurs; the day shall yet be
his. Look," he added, pointing through the window-place, "our banners
have not given back a spear's throw, and in front of them the field is
paved with dead. I tell you the French break. Back, de Norwich! Back, de
Cressi, and bid the Prince to charge!"

Some one thrust a cup of wine into Hugh's hand. He swallowed it,
glancing at the wild scene below, and presently was running with Sir
John toward the spot where they saw the Prince's banner flying. They
came to Warwick and told him the King's answer.

"My father speaks well," said the Prince. "Let none share our glory this
day! My lord, form up the lines, and when my banner is lifted thrice,
give the word to charge. Linger not, the dark is near, and either France
or England must go down ere night."

Forward rolled the French