CHAPTER III--ST. BRIDE'S CROSS

St. Bride's cross stood a little way back from Shoreby, on the skirts of

Tunstall Forest. Two roads met: one, from Holywood across the forest;

one, that road from Risingham down which we saw the wrecks of a

Lancastrian army fleeing in disorder. Here the two joined issue, and

went on together down the hill to Shoreby; and a little back from the

point of junction, the summit of a little knoll was crowned by the

ancient and weather-beaten cross.

Here, then, about seven in the morning, Dick arrived. It was as cold as

ever; the earth was all grey and silver with the hoarfrost, and the day

began to break in the east with many colours of purple and orange.

Dick set him down upon the lowest step of the cross, wrapped himself well

in his tabard, and looked vigilantly upon all sides. He had not long to

wait. Down the road from Holywood a gentleman in very rich and bright

armour, and wearing over that a surcoat of the rarest furs, came pacing

on a splendid charger. Twenty yards behind him followed a clump of

lances; but these halted as soon as they came in view of the

trysting-place, while the gentleman in the fur surcoat continued to

advance alone.

His visor was raised, and showed a countenance of great command and

dignity, answerable to the richness of his attire and arms. And it was

The Black Arrow