They were on the move while the land was still half in shadow, for Marpasse was as eager as any man to let Earl Simon know the truth about the King. Standing and looking back on Lewes as the dawn increased, Marpasse could gauge how cheaply the King and his captains held their enemy. There were Gascons too with Henry, and the Gascons should have known what manner of man they had to deal with in Earl Simon. Yet the green slopes of the downs, gleaming with dew as the golden light of the dawn began to play on them, were utterly deserted. The King’s host lay snoring after its debauch, without a single troop of horse to patrol the hills. Only on the hill that was afterwards called Mount Harry could Marpasse distinguish what appeared to be a solitary sentinel. And he, too, was lying like a grey stone on the hillside, asleep at his post while the sun made the east splendid. Marpasse clapped her hands. “The fools!” she said; “come, there is no time to lose. We ought to bear more yonder towards the west. They will be on the watch for us. I know of one man who will have been awake all night.” She looked at Denise and saw her redden. “Give him one kiss, heart of mine,” she said, “for a man fights the better with his woman’s kiss upon his mouth.” “Then, it will be the last, Marpasse,” she retorted. “Bah, have you had him killed already!” “It will be the last whatever happens,” said Denise sadly. “Do you think that I would let him make so poor a bargain.” Marpasse would have taken her to task for showing such hypersensitive self-consciousness, had not a horseman appeared above the crest of a low hill, and come galloping down into the freshness of the May morning. Marpasse looked at him as he came up, and the man’s face shone in the sunlight. He was out of the saddle, and standing by Denise, as though it was not easy for him to keep his hands from touching her. Marpasse laughed, and looked brown and joyous. “You see, lording,” she said, “I have brought her back fresh as a white may bough.” None the less the may bough had a rich colour. Marpasse turned her back on them, and looked intently towards Lewes. “Lording,” she said, “I give you while I count fifty. There is no time to lose, for the King means to fight to-day.” Whether she wished it or not, Denise found her hands in Aymery’s. He stood and looked into her eyes, and neither of them said a word. “Ten,” quoth Marpasse. Aymery’s face came nearer to Denise’s. “My desire,” he said, “if I live through it, I would have your heart for mine.” Denise had gone red at first, but she was as white now as her shift. “Lord,” she said, “I cannot.” “Bah! Twenty!” called Marpasse. Aymery’s eyes were like the pleading eyes of a dog. He remembered what Marpasse had said to him. Yet despite her vigorous counsel the great love in him made him reverent. “Why _cannot_?” he asked her simply. She looked up at him and her eyes swam with tears.