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"
"The rogue got between me and the nearest French victual wain,"
muttered Sir Oliver, amid a fresh titter from those who were near
enough to catch his words.
"How many have you in your train?" asked the prince, assuming a
graver mien.
"I have forty men-at-arms, sire," said Sir Oliver.
"And I have one hundred archers and a score of lancers, but there
are two hundred men who wait for me on this side of the water
upon the borders of Navarre."
"And who are they, Sir Nigel?"
"They are a free company, sire, and they are called the White
Company."
To the astonishment of the knight, his words provoked a burst of
merriment from the barons round, in which the two kings and the
prince were fain to join. Sir Nigel blinked mildly from one to
the other, until at last perceiving a stout black-bearded knight
at his elbow, whose laugh rang somewhat louder than the others,
he touched him lightly upon the sleeve.
"Perchance, my fair sir," he whispered, "there is some small vow
of which I may relieve you. Might we not have some honorable
debate upon the matter.


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