"It was more," said Rupert sharply. "It was a true vision of the days to come. I tell you, the white horses rode into Oxford like a crested sea. I knew they came to help me, and I grew tired of pageantry." He smiled at his own gravity, and reached out for his Crusader’s sword. "Come," he broke off, "Coeur de Lion should be punctual to the tryst." They came into the High Street, the three of them; and Rupert checked his horse with a thrill of wonderment. Not until now had he guessed what the strain of these last idle days had been. He saw the gallant sea ride into Oxford, as in his dream—saw it ride down to meet him, creamed with white horses moving at the trot. He was a free man again. And then the crowd’s uproar ceased. They saw Rupert, their idol, spur forward sharply, saw the company of Metcalfs halt as one man when their Squire drew rein. "You are the Metcalfs, come from York, I think," said Rupert. Ten years seemed lifted from him in a moment. "Gentlemen, we’ve waited for you. The King will make you very welcome." "We came to find Prince Rupert," said the Squire of Nappa, uncovering, "and, God be thanked, I think we’ve found him. You are like my picture of you." The Squire’s errand was accomplished. By hard stages, wakefulness o’ nights, banter or the whiplash of his tongue by day, he had brought these high-mettled thoroughbreds into Oxford. It was a relief to take orders now, instead of giving them. "Sir, they’re asking for pageantry in Oxford," said the Prince, "and, by Richard Coeur de Lion, they shall have their fill. Permit me to command your troop." The Duchess, not for the first time, was surprised by the right-to-be-obeyed that Rupert carried with him. Instinctively the Metcalfs made a lane between their sweating horses, and she found herself riding through the pleasant reek of horseflesh until they came to the end of this long avenue of men. Rupert was himself again—no longer an idler, exchanging growls with enemies in Council, but a man, at the head of the finest cavalry even his proved judgment had encountered so far. When they came to the pageant field, he bade them dismount and do as they pleased for an hour; at the hour’s end they were to be ready and alert. When the King arrived by and by with his Queen, a great wave of loyalty went put to greet them. However it fared with his shifting fortunes, he was here among friends, and knew it. The knowledge was heartening; for Charles had gone through bitter struggle to keep an unmoved face when all he loved seemed racing to disaster. The pageant moved forward; but the crowd was lukewarm until Richard the Crusader came, and then they went mad about the business. "How they love him!" said the King, his face flushed with pleasure.