the further
side bonfires had been lit to lighten the darkness, and by the flare
of them they saw Edward of England embracing and blessing his son, the
Black Prince, who, unhelmeted, bowed low before him in his bloodstained
mail.

"Who were they besides, Sir Robert Fitzsimmon and Richard de Beaumont
who helped you when you were down, my son?" asked the King.

The Prince looked about him.

"I know not, Sire. Many, but here is one of them," and he pointed to
Hugh, who just then appeared within the circle of the firelight. "I
think that he slew the Count Louis of Flanders."

"Ah!" said the King, "our young merchant of Dunwich--a gallant man.
Kneel you down, merchant of Dunwich."

Hugh knelt, and the King, taking the red sword from his hand, struck him
with it on the shoulder, saying:

"Rise, Sir Hugh de Cressi, for now I give you that boon which your
deathfaced servant asked before the battle. You have served us, or
rather England well, both of you. But whose armour is that the archer
carries, Sir Hugh?"

"Sir Edmund Acour's, lord de Noyon, Sire, only, alack! another man was
within the armour."

"Your meaning?" said the King briefly, and in few words Hugh told the
tale.

"A strange story, Sir Hugh. It would seem that God fought against you in
this matter. Also I am wroth; my orders were that none of my men should
sally out, though I fear me that you are not the only one who has broken
them, and for your great deeds I forgive you."

"Sire," said Hugh, dropping to his knee again, "a boon. This de Noyon,
your enemy and mine, has cheated and mocked me. Grant to me and my
servant, Richard the archer, permission to follow after him and be
avenged upon him."

"What is this you ask, Sir Hugh? That you and your brave henchman should
wander off into the depths of France, there to perish in a dungeon or
be hanged like felons? Nay, nay, we need good men and have none to spare
for private quarrels. As for this traitor, de Noyon, and his plot, that
egg is broken ere it was hatched, and we fear him no more. You follow
me, Sir Hugh, and your servant with you, whom we make a captain of our
archers. Until Calais is taken, leave not our person for any cause, and
ask no more such boons lest you lose our favour. Nay, we have no more
words for you since many others seek them. Stand back, Sir Hugh! What
say you, my lord of Warwick? Ay, it is a gruesome task, but let the
Welshmen out, those wounded will be well rid of their pain, a