men of war, and bemused with
their strong wine, they know not, belike, that we have more with us than
the small garrison of Guermigny. And we are to await them on the road, I
doubt not. You shall see men that wear your cross of St. Andrew, but not
of your colour."

I shame not to say that of bushments in the cold dawn I had seen as much
as I had stomach for, under Paris. But if any captain was wary in war,
and knew how to discover whatsoever his enemy designed, that captain was
Xaintrailles. None the less I hoped in my heart that his secret tidings
of the Burgundian onfall had not come through a priest, and namely a
cordelier.

Dawn found us mounted, and riding at a foot's-pace through the great
plain which lies rough and untilled between Guermigny and Lihons. All
grey and still it was, save for a cock crowing from a farmstead here and
there on the wide wold, broken only by a line of trees that ran across
the way.

Under these trees, which were mainly poplars and thick undergrowth of
alders about the steep banks of a little brook, we were halted, and here
took cover, our men lying down.

"Let no man stir, or speak, save when I speak to him, whatever befalls,
on peril of his life," said Xaintrailles, when we were all disposed in
hiding. Then touching me on the shoulder that I should rise, he said--

"You are young enough to climb a tree; are your eyes good?"

"I commonly was the first that saw the hare in her form, when we went
coursing at home, sir."

"Then up this tree with you! keep outlook along the road, and hide
yourself as best you may in the boughs. Throw this russet cloak over
your harness." It was shrewdly chill in the grey November morning, a
hoarfrost lying white on the fields. I took the cloak gladly and
bestowed myself in the tree, so that I had a wide view down Lihons way,
whence we expected our enemies, the road running plain to see for
leagues, like a ribbon, when once the low sun had scattered the mists. It
was a long watch, and a weary, my hands being half frozen in my steel
gauntlets. Many of our men slept; if ever a wayfarer crossed the bridge
hard by he was stopped, gagged, and trussed in a rope's end. But
wayfarers were few, and all were wandering afoot. I was sorry for two
lasses, who crossed on some business of their farm, but there was no
remedy.

These diversions passed the time till nigh noon, when I whispered to
Xaintrailles that I saw clouds of dust (the roads being v