"let us part, and prepare for our further journey. In an hour's
time the bugles shall summon you to depart for Burgos."

The Prince walked away towards his tent with the Captal de Buch,
and Eustace looked round for his horse, which he saw at no great
distance with Ingram, but Leonard Ashton was nowhere in sight.
Eustace mounted, and rode towards his own tent, desiring the
yeoman to seek Ashton out, while he himself proceeded slowly,
musing, with feelings of considerable disappointment and vexation,
on the reception he had met from Sir John Chandos, the man in the
whole camp whose good opinion he would have most valued. "This
is folly," thought he, however, rousing himself after a minute or
two of such meditations. "What said the good old Baron but what
I know full well myself, that I am far from meriting my new honours?
On whom does it depend, but myself to win his praise? And by our
Lady's grace, I will make him confess at last, that, young as I
am, I can show that I deserve my spurs. What, ho! Ingram, where
is Master Ashton?"

"Where you will little like to hear of him, Sir Knight," said the
yeoman, galloping up on his tall Flemish horse. "At the wine-shop,
yonder, in the village, with that ill-favoured, one-eyed Squire
that you wot of. I called him as you desired, and all that I got
for an answer was, that he would come at his own time, and not at
your bidding."

"Said he so? the ungracious, headstrong fellow!" said Eustace,
looking back wistfully. "And what to do! To ride back myself
might be the means of getting the whole troop late in starting,
and disorderly--yet, to leave him!" Eustace looked at John