. but
his head was whirling round, the blood was gushing from his brow,
his temple, his mouth. ever keener and sharper was the deadly
pain which shot like a red-hot arrow through his side. he felt
that his eye was glazing, his senses slipping from him, his
grasp upon the reins relaxing. then with one mighty effort, he
called up all his strength for a single minute. stooping down,
he loosened the stirrup-straps, bound his knees tightly to his
saddle-flaps, twisted his hands in the bridle, and then, putting
the gallant horse's head for the mountain path, he dashed the
spurs in and fell forward fainting with his face buried in the
coarse, black mane.
little could he ever remember of that wild ride. half conscious,
but ever with the one thought beating in his mind, he goaded the
horse onwards, rushing swiftly down steep ravines over huge
boulders, along the edges of black abysbes. dim memories he had
of beetling cliffs, of a group of huts with wondering faces at
the doors, of foaming, clattering water, and of a bristle of
mountain beeches. once, ere he had ridden far, he heard behind
him three deep, sullen shouts, which told him that his comrades
had set their faces to the foe once more. then all was blank,
until he woke to find kindly blue english eyes peering down upon
him and to hear the blessed sound of his country's speech. they
were but a foraging party--a hundred archers and as many men at-
arms-but their leader was sir hugh calverley, and he was not a
man to bide idle when good blows were to be had not three leagues
from him. a scout was sent flying with a message to the camp,
and sir hugh, with his two hundred men, thundered off to the
rescue. with them went alleyne, still bound to his saddle, still
dripping with blood, and swooning and recovering, and swooning
once again. on they rode, and on, until, at last, topping a
ridge, they looked down upon the fateful valley. alas! and alas!
for the sight that met their eyes.
there, beneath them, was the blood-bathed hill, and from the
highest pinnacle there flaunted the yellow and white banner with
the lions and the towers of the royal house of castile. up the
long slope rushed ranks and ranks of men exultant, shouting, with
waving pennons and brandished arms. over the whole summit were
dense throngs of knights, with no enemy that could be seen to
face them, save only that at one corner of the plateau an eddy
and swirl amid the crowded mass seemed to show that all
resistance was not yet at an end. at the sight a deep groan of
rage and of despair went up from the baffled rescuers, and,
spurring on their horses, they clattered down the long and
winding path which led to the valley beneath.
but they were too late to avenge, as they had been too late to
save. long ere they could gain the level ground, the spaniards,
seeing them riding swiftly amid the rocks, and being ignorant of
their numbers, drew off from the captured hill, and, having
secured their few prisoners, rode slowly in a long column, with
drum-beating and cymbal-clashing, out of the valley. their rear
ranks were already passing out of sight ere the new-comers were
urging their panting, foaming horses up the slope which had been
the scene of that long drawn and bloody fight.
and a fearsome sight it was that met their eyes! across the
lower end lay the dense heap of men and horses where the first
arrow-storm had burst. above, the bodies of the dead and the
dying--french, spanish, and aragonese--lay thick and thicker,
until they covered the whole ground two and three deep in one
dreadful tangle of slaughter. above them lay the englishmen in
their lines, even as they had stood, and higher yet upon the
plateau a wild medley of the dead of all nations, where the last
deadly grapple had left them. in the further corner, under the
shadow of a great rock, there crouched seven bowmen, with great
john in the centre of them--all wounded, weary, and in sorry
case, but still unconquered, with their blood-stained weapons
waving and their voices ringing a welcome to their countrymen.
alleyne rode across to john, while sir hugh calverley followed
close behind him.
"by saint george!" cried sir hugh, "i have never seen signs of so
stern a fight, and i am right glad that we have been in time to
save you."
"you have saved more than us," said john, pointing to the banner
which leaned against the rock behind him.
"you have done nobly," cried the old free companion, gazing with
a soldier's admiration at the huge frame and bold face of the
archer. "but why is it, my good fellow, that you sit upon this
man."
"by the rood! i had forgot him," john answered, rising and
dragging from under him no less a person than the spanish
caballero, don diego alvarez. "this man, my fair lord, means to
me a new house, ten cows, one bull
本文链接:
http://m.picdg.com/38_38017/5748718.html