st their arms
around each other and rolled off their saddles to the ground.
the heavier spaniard threw himself upon his enemy, and pinning
him down beneath him raised his sword to slay him, while a shout
of triumph rose from the ranks of his countrymen. but the fatal
blow never fell, for even as his arm quivered before descending,
the spaniard gave a shudder, and stiffening himself rolled
heavily over upon his side, with the blood gushing from his
armpit and from the slit of his vizor. sir nigel sprang to his
feet with his bloody dagger in his left hand and gazed down upon
his adversary, but that fatal and sudden stab in the vital spot,
which the spaniard had exposed by raising his arm, had proved
instantly mortal. the englishman leaped upon his horse and made
for the hill, at the very instant that a yell of rage from a
thousand voices and the clang of a score of bugles announced the
spanish onset.
but the islanders were ready and eager for the encounter. with
feet firmly planted, their sleeves rolled back to give free play
to their muscles, their long yellow bow-staves in their left
hands, and their quivers slung to the front, they had waited in
the four-deep harrow formation which gave strength to their
array, and yet permitted every man to draw his arrow freely
without harm to those in front. aylward and johnston had been
engaged in throwing light tufts of grass into the air to gauge
the wind force, and a hoarse whisper passed down the ranks from
the file-leaders to the men, with scraps of advice and
admonition.
"do not shoot outside the fifteen-score paces," cried johnston.
"we may need all our shafts ere we have done with them."
"better to overshoot than to undershoot," added aylward. "better
to strike the rear guard than to feather a shaft in the earth."
"loose quick and sharp when they come," added another. "let it be
the eye to the string, the string to the shaft, and the shaft to
the mark. by our lady! their banners advance, and we must hold
our ground now if ever we are to see southampton water again."
alleyne, standing with his sword drawn amidst the archers, saw a
long toss and heave of the glittering squadrons. then the front
ranks began to surge slowly forward, to trot, to canter, to
gallop, and in an instant the whole vast array was hurtling
onward, line after line, the air full of the thunder of their
cries, the ground shaking with the beat of their hoots, the
valley choked with the rushing torrent of steel, topped by the
waving plumes, the slanting spears and the fluttering banderoles.
on they swept over the level and up to the slope, ere they met
the blinding storm of the english arrows. down went the whole
ranks in a whirl of mad confusion, horses plunging and kicking,
bewildered men falling, rising, staggering on or back, while
ever new lines of horsemen came spurring through the gaps and
urged their chargers up the fatal slope. all around him alleyne
could hear the stern, short orders of the master-bowmen, while
the air was filled with the keen twanging of the strings and the
swish and patter of the shafts. right across the foot of the
hill there had sprung up a long wall of struggling horses and
stricken men, which ever grew and heightened as fresh squadrons
poured on the attack. one young knight on a gray jennet leaped
over his fallen comrades and galloped swiftly up the hill,
shrieking loudly upon saint james, ere he fell within a spear-
length of the english line, with the feathers of arrows thrusting
out from every crevice and joint of his armor. so for five long
minutes the gallant horsemen of spain and of france strove ever
and again to force a passage, until the wailing note of a bugle
called them back, and they rode slowly out of bow-shot, leaving
their best and their bravest in the ghastly, blood-mottled heap
behind them.
but there was little rest for the victors. whilst the knights
had charged them in front the slingers had crept round upon
either flank and had gained a footing upon the cliffs and behind
the outlying rocks. a storm of stones broke suddenly upon the
defenders, who, drawn up in lines upon the exposed summit,
offered a fair mark to their hidden foes. johnston, the old
archer, was struck upon the temple and fell dead without a groan,
while fifteen of his bowmen and six of the men-at-arms were
struck down at the same moment. the others lay on their faces to
avoid the deadly hail, while at each side of the plateau a fringe
of bowmen exchanged shots with the slingers and crossbowmen
among the rocks, aiming mainly at those who had swarmed up the
cliffs, and bursting into laughter and cheers when a well-aimed
shaft brought one of their opponents toppling down from his lofty
perch.
"i think, nigel," said sir oliver, striding across to the little
knight, "that we should all ac
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