he
knelt down, and received upon the spot the rank of knight. At one bound
he had achieved the height of glory--to be knighted by his sovereign on
the field of battle.

Bayard was not yet nineteen. His figure at that age was tall and
slender; his hair and eyes were black; his complexion was a sunny brown;
and his countenance had something of the eagle's.

He was now for some time idle. He was left in garrison in Lombardy. But
fiercer fields were soon to call him. Ludovico Sforza took Milan. At
Binasco, Lord Bernardino Cazache, one of Sforza's captains, had three
hundred horse; and twenty miles from Milan was Bayard's place of
garrison. With fifty of his comrades he rode out one morning, bent on
assaulting Lord Bernardino's force. The latter, warned by a scout of
their approach, armed his party, and rushed fiercely from the fort. The
strife was fought with fury; but the Lombards, slowly driven back toward
Milan, at length wheeled round their horses and galloped like the wind
into the city.

Bayard, darting in his spurs, waving his bare blade, and shouting out
his battle-cry of "France," was far ahead of his companions. Before he
knew his danger, he had dashed in with the fugitives at the city gates
and reached the middle of the square in front of Sforza's palace. He
found himself alone in the midst of the fierce enemy--with the white
crosses of France emblazoned on his shield.

Sforza, hearing a tremendous uproar in the square, came to a window of
the palace and looked down. The square was swarming with the soldiers
of Binasco, savage, hacked, and bloody; and in the centre of the yelling
tumult, Bayard, still on horseback, was slashing at those who strove to
pull him from his seat.

Sforza, in a voice of thunder, bade the knight be brought before him.
Bayard, seeing that resistance was mere madness, surrendered to Lord
Bernardino, and was led, disarmed, into the palace. Sforza was a soldier
more given to the ferocity than to the courtesies of war. But when the
young knight stood before him, when he heard his story, when he looked
upon his bold yet modest bearing, the fierce and moody prince was moved
to admiration. "Lord Bayard," he said, "I will not treat you as a
prisoner. I set you free; I will take no ransom; and I will grant you
any favor in my power." "My Lord Prince," said Bayard, "I thank you for
your courtesy with all my soul. I will ask you only for my horse and
armor." The horse was brought; Bayard spran