Such proved to be the case. We had not long to abide the issue. The oncoming darkness had not time to envelop us ere the meadows began to shake under a mighty thunder of hoofs; and Sir Richard Pendragon, mounted upon a splendid war-horse, the choicest in the stable of our mistress, and accompanied by a body of horsemen riding in admirable close order, came straight for our little clump of alder trees. “A Pendragon! A Pendragon!” arose the great baying voice of our formidable captain. His bare sword, seeking occupation, cut at the tall grasses as he rode through them. “Where are you, you good souls?” he cried as he drew rein before the place in which we held the King. He needed not to call again, for the Count of Nullepart and I came out at once, carrying our royal prize, which, for the reason that it was habited in a night-gown only, was still covered by the bag. Two led horses had been brought for our use; and Sir Richard Pendragon had the captive lifted on to the front of his own saddle. The chief part of the design being then accomplished, the whole company galloped back to the bridge, which was no longer held by the arms of Castile. Our enemies had been beaten off with some loss by this sudden and totally unexpected foray. No sooner had we crossed this bridge and had come again into safety, with the upper path leading to the drawbridge lying before us free of all our foes, than our formidable leader declared that not the capture of the King alone would content him. He had the royal prisoner transferred from his own saddle to that of the Count of Nullepart; and then he bade us both take the captive behind the walls of the castle into security, whilst he with a following of two hundred horsemen would proceed to inflict a further stroke upon the disorganized army in the plain below. The Count of Nullepart and myself were loth to assent to this proposal. For our blood being roused by this martial brilliancy, we also could have wished to go forward upon this enterprise. Yet it is the business of a soldier to obey his commander, and Sir Richard Pendragon had come to stand towards us in that relation. Besides, it was necessary that responsible persons should hold the custody of the royal captive. Regretfully, therefore, we continued along the upper path with our great prize. And Sir Richard Pendragon riding down the hill, we could hear him marshalling with voice and with trumpet the two hundred horsemen that were gathered about the lower bridge to await his commands. And the last thing we heard of him as we took a turn in the path was an admonishment of these troopers in his mighty voice upon their discipline. With his own right hand he threatened to cut down each mother’s son that dared to forsake his duty for private rapine. “By my soul,” said the Count of Nullepart, laughing softly, “I believe that mad English fellow is the first captain of the age.” CHAPTER XXXIV OF MADAM’S RENCOUNTER WITH THE FROWARD PRINCE