unaccustomed eye, doubly wonderful--the constant though subdued
sounds in the camp, the murmur of the river, and, far away in
the dark expanse of night, the sparkling of a multitude of lights,
which marked the encampment of the enemy. There was a strange
calm awe upon his spirit. He spoke in a low voice, and Gaston's
careless light-hearted tones fell on his ear as something
uncongenial; but his eye glanced brightly, his step was free
and bold, as he felt that this was the day that must silence
every irritating doubt of his possessing a warrior-spirit.

The first red streak of dawn was beginning to glow in the eastern
sky, when the note of a bugle rang out from the Prince's tent and
was responded to by hundreds of other horns. That instant the
quiet slumbering camp awoke, the space in front of every tent
was filled with busy men, arming themselves, or saddling their
horses. Gaston and Eustace, already fully equipped, assisted Sir
Reginald to arm; Leonard was roused, and began to fasten on his
armour; the men-at-arms came forth from their tent, and the horses
were saddled and bridled; "And now," called Sir Reginald, "bring
our last loaf, John Ingram. Keep none back. By this day's eve
we shall have abundance, or else no further need."

The hard dry barley-bread was shared in scanty, but equal measure,
and scarcely had it been devoured, before a second bugle blast,
pealing through the camp, caused each mail-clad warrior to close
his visor, and spring into the open plain, where, according to
previous orders, they arrayed themselves in two divisions, the
first commanded by the Duke of Lancaster and Sir John Chandos,
the second by Prince Edward and Don Pedro.