After a pause, employed in marshalling the different bands, the
host advanced at an even pace, the rising sun glancing on their
armour, and revealing the multitude of waving crests, and streamers
fluttering from the points of the lances, like the wings of
gorgeous insects. Presently a wall of glittering armour was seen
advancing to meet them, with the same brilliant display. It might
have seemed some mighty tournament that was there arrayed, as the
two armies stood confronting each other, rather than a stern battle
for the possession of a kingdom; and well might old Froissart
declare, "It was a pleasure to see such hosts."

But it would be presumptuous to attempt to embellish a tale after
Froissart has once touched it. To him, then, I leave it to tell
how the rank of banneret was conferred on the gallant old Chandos,
how the Prince prayed aloud for a blessing on his arms, how he
gave the signal for the advance, and how the boaster, Tello, fled
in the first encounter. The Lances of Lynwood, in the division of
the Duke of Lancaster, well and gallantly did their part in the
hard struggle with the brave band of French, whose resistance was
not overcome till the Black Prince himself brought his reserved
troops to the aid of his brother.

With the loss of only one man-at-arms, the Lances of Lynwood had
taken several prisoners. It was high noon, and the field was well-
nigh cleared of the enemy, when Sir Reginald drew his rein at the
top of a steep bank clothed with brushwood, sloping towards the
stream of the Zadorra, threw up his visor, wiped his heated brow,
and, patting his horse's neck, turned to his brother, saying, "You
have seen sharp work in this your first battle-day, Eustace."