the vast uncertain multitude. Twice ere they reached open ground they had to break their way through small bodies of horse, and once there came a whistle of arrows and singing of stones about their ears; but, still dashing onwards, they shot out from among the tents and found their own comrades retreating for the mountains at no very great distance from them. Another five minutes of wild galloping over the plain, and they were all back in their gorge, while their pursuers fell back before the rolling of drums and blare of trumpets, which seemed to proclaim that the whole army of the prince was about to emerge from the mountain passes.
'By my soul! Nigel,' cried Sir Oliver, waving a great boiled ham ever his head, 'I have come by something which I may eat with my truffles! I had a hard fight for it, for there were three of them with their mouths open and the knives in their hands, all sitting agape round the table when I rushed in upon them. How say you, Sir William, will you not try the smack of the famed Spanish swine, though we have but the brook water to wash it down?'
'Later, Sir Oliver,' answered the old soldier, wiping his grimed face. 'We must further into the mountains ere we be in safety. But what have we here, Nigel?'
'It is a prisoner whom I have taken, and in sooth, as he came from the royal tent and wears the royal arms upon his jupon, I trust that he is the King of Spain.'
'The King of Spain!' cried the companions, crowding round in amazement.
'Nay, Sir Nigel,' said Felton, peering at the prisoner through the uncertain light. 'I have twice seen Henry of Trastamare, and certes this man in no way resembles him.'
'Then, by the light of heaven! I will ride back for him,' cried Sir Nigel.
'Nay, nay, the camp is in arms, and it would be rank madness. Who are you, fellow?' he added in Spanish, 'and how is it that you dare to wear the arms of Castile?'
The prisoner was but recovering the consciousness which
