THE KING'S CHAMPION Back over that fearful field, whereof the silence was broken only by the groans of the wounded and the dying, walked Hugh and Grey Dick.

They came to the great rampart of dead men and horses that surrounded the English line, and climbed it as though it were a wall.

On the further side bonfires had been lit to lighten the darkness, and by the flare of them they saw Edward of England embracing and blessing his son, the Black Prince, who, unhelmeted, bowed low before him in his bloodstained mail.
"Who were they besides, Sir Robert Fitzsimmon and Richard de Beaumont who helped you when you were down, my son ?" asked the King.
The Prince looked about him.
"I know not, Sire.

Many, but here is one of them," and he pointed to Hugh, who just then appeared within the circle of the firelight.

"I think that he slew the Count Louis of Flanders." "Ah!" said the King, "our young merchant of Dunwich--a gallant man.
Kneel you down, merchant of Dunwich." Hugh knelt, and the King, taking the red sword from his hand, struck him with it on the shoulder, saying: "Rise, Sir Hugh de Cressi, for now I give you that boon which your deathfaced servant asked before the battle.