"But," continued Ashton, angrily, "as to serving Eustace, the clerk,
no older than myself, half a head shorter, and a mere landless
upstart, that my father's son shall never do!"

"Say you so?" said Gaston. "I recommend you not to do so quite so
loud, or perchance the landless upstart might hand your father's
son over to the Provost Marshal, for preaching disaffection to his
men. And, in good time, here comes the Master Armourer."

The rest of the day was spent by Gaston in the arrangement of
the equipments, so important in his estimation, and scarcely
another word was spoken save on the choice of helm and shield,
and the adaptation of crests and blazonry. The next point for
consideration was the disposal of the prisoners taken by the
Lances of Lynwood in the early part of the battle. Two were
Squires, the other four, rough-looking men-at-arms who protested
that they could not pay one denier towards their ransom. Eustace
liberated them, and was greatly inclined to do the same by the
Squires; but Gaston assured him it would be doing wrong to the
Prince's cause to set the rogues free without taking some good
French crowns from them, and therefore, permitting him to name
what ransom he thought fit, he returned to them their horses,
and dismissed them to collect the sum.

Early the next morning, Gaston had the satisfaction of beholding
his young banneret arrayed in knightly guise, the golden spurs on
his heels, Du Guesclin's sword by his side, and his white mantle
flung over his shoulder. Leonard was summoned to accompany him,
but he growled out something so like an absolute refusal and utter