"How many has the Duke in his train?"

"At least six hundred, I should say."

"He has doubled his force since he left Pontefract," observed Aymer to
his squire, as the inn-keeper retired. "And there may be truth in what
the rogue says--we may find slender provision in the wake of such a
column."

"If there be enough for the horses, we can soon overtake them," said
the squire; "for the men, it matters little: we all are soldiers."

De Lacy nodded. "We will push on steadily, and though I know little of
this country, I fancy we will come up with the Duke by to-morrow night."

"By your lordship's permission," said old Raynor Royk respectfully, who
had overheard the conversation, "we shall not see the White Boar banner
this side Leicester town, and we shall scarce reach there before the
evening of the second day from now."

And the old veteran, as events proved, was correct in his calculation.

When De Lacy entered Leicester, he hailed the first soldier he chanced
upon and was informed that Gloucester lodged at the "White Boar," near
the center of the town. It was a large and handsome stone house, with
the second floor of timber overhanging the street; and before it swung
the painted sign: a white boar and a thorn bush, indicating that the
place was named in honor of the Duke. And De Lacy smiled as he thought
how, to his own knowledge, at least half a dozen inns on the Continent