"We shall soon reach an outpost of the foe," he was thinking, when in a shadowed hollow beyond him he heard one speak in French:
"And all is well, Guienne," replied the sentry.
There was a slight clank of armor, for the French outpost was but changing sentries, and the officer rode away.
"Now we know sign and countersign," said Richard, and he carefully instructed his companions.
Hardly had he done so before a glare of red light, not far to the right, told of hayricks set on fire by Warwick's men. There came sounds of trumpets also, and of shouting, for the attack had begun.
"Forward, now," said Richard; "we are safe, if once within their lines."
Loud and angry was the summons of the French vidette, startled sorely.
"De la Saye, Normandy, with a countersign," responded Richard.
"Advance, De la Saye and Normandy, with a sign," replied the sentry.
"To Philip the King, Guienne," said Richard, "and I bid thee save thy neck. The English are charging in."
"Cease thy chatter!" exclaimed Richard. "Go tell the count, from De la Saye, that Earl Warwick is upon him. Bid him, from me, to send word speedily to the king, lest he lose his head."
"Aye, Sieur de la Saye," spoke yet another voice from one who sat upon a horse in the road. "Thou hast scouted far and well. I am the Count de la Torre, of Provence. I will report well of thee to the king. Our other scouts are worthless. What force sawest thou with the earl?"
"A thousand men-at-arms, about three thousand foot, in the advance. What more behind them knoweth no man. But there surely is no need to lose St. Germain this night."
Fiercely loud were the sayings of the count concerning the carelessness and bad management of the French captains. They had lost the bridge of Poissy. They were keeping but poor guard elsewhere. Now, but for this Sieur de la Saye, of Brittany, naught would have been known of Warwick's dash upon the city.
Therefore forward marched Richard and his Welshmen, and for a distance De la Torre rode beside them, questioning right soldierly concerning all that they had seen. But he spoke not, he said, the tongue of the peasants of Brittany.
"Were we all born in Paris," said David, after the count left him, "we could hardly be safer than we now are. But our peril will come in getting out."