CHAPTER XXX. HOW THE BRUSHWOOD MEN CAME TO THE CHATEAU OF VILLEFRANCHE.

sel,laybackwithupdrawnknees,breathinginwheezygasps.Furtherback—allpantingtogether,likethewindinatree—therestoodagroupoffierce,wildcreatures,bare-armedandbare-legged,gaunt,unshaven,withdeep-setmurderouseyesandwildbeastfaces.Withtheirflashingteeth,theirbristlinghair,theirmadleapingsandscreamings,theyseemedtoAlleynemorelikefiendsfromthepitthanmenoffleshandblood.Evenashelooked,theybrokeintoahoarseyellanddashedoncemoreuponthetwoknights,hurlingthemselvesmadlyupontheirsword-pointsclutching,scrambling,biting,tearing,carelessofwoundsiftheycouldbutdragthetwosoldierstoearth.SirNigelwasthrowndownbythesheerweightofthem,andSirBertrandwithhisthunderouswar-crywasswingingroundhisheavyswordtoclearaspaceforhimtorise,whenthewhistleoftwolongEnglisharrows,andtherushofthesquireandthetwoEnglisharchersdownthestairs,turnedthetideofthecombat.Theassailantsgaveback,theknightsrushedforward,andinaveryfewmomentsthehallwascleared,andHordleJohnhadhurledthelastofthewildmendownthesteepstepswhichledfromtheendofit. “Donotfollowthem,”criedDuGuesclin.“Wearelostifwescatter.FormyselfIcarenotadenier,thoughitisapoorthingtomeetone'sendatthehandsofsuchscumbutIhavemydearladyhere,whomustbynomeansberisked.Wehavebreathing-spacenow,andIwouldaskyou,SirNigel,whatitisthatyouwouldcounsel?” “BySt.Paul!”answeredSirNigel,“Icanbynomeansunderstandwhathathbefallenus,savethatIhavebeenwokenupbyyourbattle-cry,and,rushingforth,foundmyselfinthemidstofthissmallbickering.Harrowandalasfortheladyandtheseneschal!Whatdogsaretheywhohavedonethisbloodydeed?” “TheyaretheJacks,themenofthebrushwood.Theyhavethecastle,thoughIknownothowithathcometopass.Lookfromthiswindowintothebailey.” “Byheaven!”criedSirNigel,“itisasbrightasdaywiththetorches.Thegatesstandopen,andtherearethreethousandofthemwithinthewalls.Seehowtheyrushandscreamandwave!Whatisitthattheythrustoutthroughtheposterndoor?MyGod!itisaman-at-arms,andtheypluckhimlimbfromlimblikehoundsonawolf.Nowanother,andyetanother.Theyholdthewholecastle,forIseetheirfacesatthewindows.See,therearesomewithgreatbundlesontheirbacks.” “Itisdriedwoodfromtheforest.Theypilethemagainstthewallsandsettheminablaze.Whoisthiswhotriestocheckthem?BySt.Ives!itisthegoodpriestwhospakefortheminthehall.Hekneels,heprays,heimplores!What!villains,wouldyeraisehandsagainstthosewhohavebefriendedyou?Ah,thebutcherhasstruckhim!Heisdown!Theystamphimundertheirfeet!Theytearoffhisgownandwaveitintheair!Seenow,howtheflameslickupthewalls!Aretherenonelefttorallyroundus?Withahundredmenwemightholdourown.” “Oh,formyCompany!”criedSirNigel.“ButwhereisFord,Alleyne?” “Heisfoullymurdered,myfairlord.” “Thesaintsreceivehim!Mayherestinpeace!Butherecomesomeatlastwhomaygiveuscounsel,foramidthesepassagesitisilltostirwithoutaguide.” Ashespoke,aFrenchsquireandtheBohemianknightcamerushingdownthesteps,thelatterbleedingfromaslashacrosshisforehead. “Allislost!”hecried.“Thecastleistakenandonfire,theseneschalisslain,andthereisnough