"No, truly," replied Van Arckel; "I acknowledge Messire Robert to be a fearless and valiant knight."
"Well, then," continued the king, "you hear, general, that your personal honor is not called in question; there remains to you only the honor of France to avenge. I counsel you both to postpone the combat to the day after the battle. I pray you speak, Messires, is not my counsel wise and prudent?"
"Yes, yes," answered the knights; "unless the general will grant to one of us the favor of taking up the glove in his stead."
"Silence!" cried D'Artois; "I will not hear of it."
"Messire Van Arckel, do you agree to this?"
"That is no business of mine; I have thrown down my glove, and the general has taken it up; it behooves him to fix the time when he will give it back to me."
"Be it so," said Robert d'ArtoIs; "and if the battle do not last until sunset, I shall come in quest of you that very evening."
"You may spare yourself the trouble," answered Hugo; "I shall be at your side before you are aware of it."
This was followed by threatenings on both sides; but they proceeded no further, for Sigis interposed with the words:
"Messires, it is not fitting that we should longer discuss this matter. Let us once more fill our goblets, and forget all bitter animosity. Be seated, Messire van Arckel."
"No, no," cried Hugo; "I sit here no longer. I leave the camp immediately. Farewell, Messires, we shall see one another again on the battlefield. Meanwhile, may God have you in His holy keeping."
With these words he left the tent, and called his eight hundred men together; and in a very short time one might have heard the sound of trumpets and the clanging armor of a departing band. The same evening he reached the camp of the Flemings, and we may imagine with what joy he was received by them; for he and his men had the reputation of being invincible, and, indeed, they had deserved it.
The French knights meanwhile had resumed the interrupted banquet, and continued to drink in peace. While they were discoursing of Hugo's temerity, a herald entered the tent, and inclined himself respectfully before the knights. His clothes were covered with dust, the sweat ran from his brow, and everything indicated that he had ridden in great haste. The knights looked at him with curiosity, while he drew a parchment from beneath his armor, and said, as he gave it to the general:
"Messire, this letter will inform you that I come from Messire van Lens at Courtrai, to report to you the extreme peril we are in."
"Speak, then," cried D'Artois impatiently; "can not Messire van Lens hold out the citadel of Courtrai against a handful of foot-soldiers?"
"Permit me to say that you deceive yourself, noble lord," replied the messenger. "The Flemings have no contemptible army in the field; it has sprung up as if by magic; they are more than thirty thousand strong, and have cavalry and an abundant supply of provisions. They are constructing tremendous engines, in order to batter the citadel and take it by storm. Our provisions and our arrows are both exhausted, and we have already begun to devour some of our least valuable horses. If your highness shall delay but a day to bring aid to Messire van Lens, every Frenchman in Courtrai will perish; for there are no longer any means of escape. Messires van Lens, De Mortenay, and De Rayecourt beseech you urgently to extricate them from this peril."
"Messires," cried Robert d'Artois, "here is a glorious opportunity; we could have wished for nothing better. The Flemings are all gathered together at Courtrai; we will fall upon them where they are, and but few of them shall escape us; the hoofs of our horses shall avenge our wrongs on this vile and despicable people. You, herald, remain in the tent; to-morrow you shall return with us to Courtrai. Yet one toast more, Messires; then go and get your troops in readiness for departure; me must break up our encampment with all haste."
All now left the tent to obey the command of the general, and from every part of the camp resounded the flourish of trumpets summoning the dispersed troops, the tramp of horses, and the clash of armor; a few hours later the tents were struck, and the baggage-wagons packed—all was in readiness. Here and there a number of soldiers were occupied in plunder; but in so large a camp this excited no attention. The captains placed themselves at the head of their companies, arranged the cavalry two abreast; and in that order they marched out of the entrenchments.
The first band, which left the camp with banners flying, consisted of three thousand light cavalry, all picked men, armed with huge battle-axes, and carrying long swords hanging from the pommel of their saddles. These were followed by four thousand archers on foot. They marched onward in a dense mass, protecting their faces from the rays of the sun with their large square shields. Their quivers were full of arrows, and a short sword without a scabbard hung at their girdle. They were mostly from the south of France; but many were by nation Spaniards or Lombards. John de Barles, their captain, a brave warrior, rode here and there between the ranks to encourage them and keep them in order.
The second band was under the command of Reginald de Trie, and consisted of three thousand two hundred heavy cavalry. They were mounted on horses of unusual height and strength, and
