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hesitant moment； surged back upon the long lines of men…at…arms
behind。
From these arose a great shout： 〃/Trahison！ Trahison！ Tuez！ Tuez！/〃
Next instant the appalling sight was seen of the chivalry of France
falling upon their friends； whose only crime was that their bow…
strings were wet； and butchering them where they stood。 So awful and
unexpected was this spectacle that for a little while the English
archers； all except Grey Dick and a few others cast in the same iron
mould； ceased to ply their bows and watched amazed。
The long shafts began to fly again； raining alike upon the
slaughterers and the slaughtered。 A few minutes； five perhaps； and
this terrible scene was over； for of the seven thousand Genoese but a
tithe remained upon their feet； and the interminable French lines；
clad in sparkling steel and waving lance and sword； charged down upon
the little English band。
〃Now for the feast！〃 screamed Grey Dick。 〃That was but a snack to
sharp the appetite；〃 and as he said the words a gorgeous knight died
with his arrow through the heart。
It came； the charge came。 Nothing could stop it。 Down went man and
horse； line upon line of them swept to death by the pitiless English
arrows； but still more rushed on。 They fell in the pits that had been
dug； they died beneath the shafts and the hoofs of those that
followed； but still they struggled on； shouting： 〃Philip and St。
Denis！〃 and waving their golden banner； the Oriflamme of France。
The charge crept up as a reluctant； outworn wave creeps to a resisting
rock。 It foamed upon the rock。 The archers ceased to shoot and drew
their axes。 The men…at…arms leapt forward。 The battle had joined at
last！ Breast to breast they wrestled now。 Hugh's sword was red； and
red was Grey Dick's axe。 Fight as they would； the English were borne
back。 The young Prince waved his arm； screaming something； and at that
sight the English line checked its retreat； stood still； and next
plunged forward with a roar of：
〃England and the Prince！〃
That assault was over。 Backward rolled the ride of men； those who were
left living。 After them went the dark Welsh。 Their commanders ordered
them to stand； the Earl of Warwick ordered them to stand。 The Prince
himself ordered them to stand； running in front of them； only to be
swept aside like a straw before a draught of wind。 Out they broke；
grinning and gnashing their teeth； great knives in their hands。
The red Dragon of Merlin which a giant bore led them on。 It sank； it
fell； it rose again。 The giant was down； but another had it。 They
scrambled over the mass of dead and dying。 They got among the living
beyond。 With eerie screams they houghed the horses and； when the
riders fell； hacked open the lacings of their helms； and； unheeding of
any cries for mercy； drove the great knives home。 At length all were
dead； and they returned again waving those red knives and singing some
fierce chant in their unknown tongue。
The battle was not over yet。 Fresh horses of Frenchmen gathered out of
arrow range； and charged again under the banners of Blois； Alencon；
Lorraine； and Flanders。 Forward they swept； and with them came one who
looked like a king； for he wore a crown upon his helm。 The hawk…eyed
Dick noted him； and that his bridle was bound to those of the knights
who rode upon his either side。 On them he rained shafts from his great
black bow； for Grey Dick never shot without an aim； and after the
battle one of his marked arrows was found fixed in the throat of the
blind king of Bohemia。
This second charge could not be stayed。 Step by step the English
knights were beaten back； the line of archers was broken through； his
guard formed round the Prince； Hugh among them。 Heavy horses swept on
to them。 Beneath the hoofs of one of these Hugh was felled； but；
stabbing it from below； caused the poor beast to leap aside。 He gained
his feet again。 The Prince was down； a splendid knightit was the
Count of Flanderswho had sprung from his horse； stood over him； his
sword point at his throat； and called on him to yield。 Up ran Robert
Fitzsimmon； the standard bearer； shouting：
〃To the son of the King！ To the son of the King！〃
He struck down a knight with the pole of his standard。 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 in their last desperate onset； horse and
foot mingled together。 Forward they rolled almost in silence； the
arrows playing on their dense host； but not as they did at first； for
many a quiver was empty。 Once； twice； thrice the Prince's banner bowed
and lifted； and as it rose for the third time there rang out a shout
of：
〃Charge for St。 George and Edward！〃
Then England； that all these long hours had stood still； suddenly
hurled herself upon the foe。 Hugh； leaping over a heap of