"I know, Matthew," said Edgar in a low voice. "And I know, too, that if earnest striving of mine can compass it, his memory will not be disgraced by me. It shall be my aim to live as nobly and to die as gallantly." "Ye say well, lad. I hope thou wilt be as good as thy word. Now I will finish the story. "Very soon we had broken through the second line of the French ships, and as at that moment more ships arrived under Sir Robert Morley, a great panic fell upon the third line, and many of their men threw themselves into the sea and there perished miserably. The fourth line, however, still remained unbroken, and fought us right gallantly until nightfall, when those that were still able to set sail made good their escape. "Our losses were trifling; the losses of the French were tremendous. We had only two ships destroyed, while out of all the mighty French fleet but a few stragglers escaped. Their loss in men, too, they say, was no less than thirty thousand slain. ’Twill be years and years, lad, I warrant thee, before the French will again dare to oppose us on the ocean. We are now masters of the sea, and our ships can come and go as they please. Hurrah for our martial King Edward!" "Hurrah, indeed!" cried Edgar, catching something of his enthusiasm. "But how came our men to gain so great a victory over the French? Did they not fight well?" "Aye, they fought well enough, but they were outgeneralled. They had two leaders while we had one. And more--though I am a man-at-arms, and think most of my sort, yet can I give a meed of praise where ’tis due--’twas our archers did much to win the day. Aye, our bowmen gave the French a rude awakening--one, too, that will be repeated as roughly yet many a day. Our men shot so hard and fast that the air was streaked with shafts, and Frenchmen and Genoese fell dead on every hand. Even the knights were hard put to it to face so pitiless a hail. I mind me old Thomelin of Pontefract, one of the most famous of our marksmen, said to me as we passed a ship in the first line, where the battle still raged: ’See yon knight in golden armour, Matthew?’ "’Aye,’ said I. "’Watch him well.’ "He drew his bow to the feather and held it motionless for a moment or two. The knight was opposing a party of English who were pouring along the deck of his ship. He swung his axe back and up, and Thomelin’s bow twanged. The knight’s nearest armpit sprouted feathers, his axe fell with a clang, and he rattled down after it. ’Twas thus that our archers taught even knights in full armour to fear them." "But are not crossbowmen equally to be feared?" cried Edgar. "I have heard that their heavy bolts can crash through the armour itself." "Mayhap; but when they have English bowmen to fight against they have little chance to show their powers. Ere ever they can loose a bolt a cloth-yard shaft hath laid them low. Our archers laugh at crossbowmen--and with good reason." "What befell after the battle, Matthew?"