We were lucky to get any food at all, but the worst of it all was that we were forced to sleep in the open. Pierre found a spot in the shelter of the barn where we would be protected from the wind. He brought an armful of straw and scattered it over the ground. Then he took from his pockets two strands of rope and bade me lie down. He tied one strand firmly about my right wrist, the other about my left. The ends he drew apart in opposite directions, tying one to a post at the corner of the barn, the other he fastened on the other side of me to a stone that was imbedded in the soil. It was as though I was stretched out like a cross. I could move my hands outwards as far as I liked. But when I drew them together as far as the ropes allowed, they remained more than a foot apart. If I rolled over on my side the one arm was behind me and the other in front. If I had tried to get to my feet, I wouldn’t have been halfway up before I would have been forced down again. It was thus I passed the night. You can imagine that I slept only in fits and starts, for as soon as I was in a doze I was sure to stir and the tautness of the ropes, with the pain awakened me. The day came as a relief. My captor let me lie until he brought me my breakfast. Then he loosed my bonds. After we had eaten we started out on the journey that was becoming irksome and even a torment. That day passed about the same as the first. We toiled along the road for the most part in gloomy silence. The soldiers were pouring in thicker and thicker. Sometimes as many as two hundred of them in a single body passed us so that we were forced to leave the highway and stand on the banks to let them go by. At another time later on a great lord from the east swept along. He was dressed in shining armor from head to heel. In his helmet waved a plume of feathers dyed red and white and a broadsword hung in its glittering scabbard by his side. In his train were at least five hundred followers, some of them of almost as high degree as he; others with long lances rode directly behind him, while further back a troop of archers completed the array. It was a sight to admire. From where we had halted on the side of the road, my captor pointed at them with his finger. “That,” said he, “is what you have come to see.” His grimness puzzled me. “Has a war broken out?” I asked. “Not yet,” was the answer, “—and it will never be called a war. These men are on their way to crush the Black Prince of England.” I drew a long breath. “—the Black Prince!” I exclaimed. “Why, you can’t do that. There is not a leader alive who can cope with him in the field.” A slow smile came over his face. “Within a week, there will be fifteen thousand men on their way down this valley,” he replied. “The Black Prince is far off towards the west. He is as ignorant of this preparation as a child.” “But he’ll learn of it?” I said. My captor shook his head.