Yet that very difficulty was to prove their salvation. There was a ford, as the king was to learn, but its farther end upon the eastern bank was ill guarded with an insufficient force detached from the French vanguard upon the farther shore. For it was imagined that the crossing could hardly be attempted, or, if attempted, easily repelled. Edward Plantagenet turned to one of the lesser commanders, who had spoken of the rumour of a ford, and said,-- “What was the name of your prisoner?” The soldier replied,-- “Gobain Agache. He is a farmer of Mons, through which we marched but yesterday. We took him with us because he had been talking too much.” “One might have thought that you could have found intelligence.” “No, sir; they were all dumb. But we had heard that this man had talked, so we took him with us.” “What has he told you?” “He has told us nothing.” “What have you offered him?” The commander mentioned a sum large in his eyes. Edward Plantagenet laughed. “We will give him the worth of his whole farm,” he said, “and his freedom, and that of any twenty of his comrades. Are there so many from his part?” “No doubt, sir,” said the officer. They sent for Gobain Agache, and they made him their offer pleasantly enough. He stood before them stolid for a moment. They did not press him. As to which of these two kings should prove himself by ordeal of battle to be the rightful king Gobain Agache cared nothing. The jabbering of Welsh and of half English in the billets had sounded to him very foreign indeed, but then many of the others there were also of his own kind. He was disturbed in the matter of loyalty to his lord, who, he was told, had followed the Valois king upon the farther side of the river. He was disturbed about his farm, and what would happen to it if the battle were decided one way or the other; and here he was, with the value of his farm to his hand for the taking! So he spoke. “The ford is close by. Your men ought to have seen it. Any stranger could see it. It is clearly marked at low tide from the hard to the hard, a broad made way of marl and chalk and great stones going right across the river.” Edward looked at that one of his subordinates chiefly responsible, who murmured at once,-- “Sir, we did not reach this bank until the tide was already flowing.” “Did you see a hard going down into the water?” said the king sharply. “I thought it was a village wharf.” The king smiled, and turned again to Gobain Agache. “How broad is it?” “About twenty paces,” said the farmer. “Who is the best fisherman here?” said the king abruptly. Gobain hesitated. “I do not know the place,” he said.