CHAPTER XXXI. HOW FIVE MEN HELD THE KEEP OF VILLEFRANCHE

mbatwaslessunequalthanitseemed.Courageandresourcewerepennedinbydesperationandnumbers,whilethegreatyellowsheetsofflamethrewtheirluridglareoverthesceneofdeath. “Thereisbutspacefortwouponasteptogivefreeplaytooursword-arms,”saidDuGuesclin.“Doyoustandwithme,Nigel,uponthelowest.FranceandEnglandwillfighttogetherthisnight.SirOtto,Iprayyoutostandbehinduswiththisyoungsquire.Thearchersmaygohigheryetandshootoverourheads.Iwouldthatwehadourharness,Nigel.” “OftenhaveIheardmydearSirJohnChandossaythataknightshouldnever,evenwhenaguest,bepartedfromit.Yetitwillbemorehonortousifwecomewelloutofit.Wehaveavantage,sinceweseethemagainstthelightandtheycanscarceseeus.Itseemstomethattheymusterforanonslaught.” “Ifwecanbutkeeptheminplay,”saidtheBohemian,“itislikelythattheseflamesmaybringussuccoriftherebeanytruemeninthecountry.” “Bethinkyou,myfairlord,”saidAlleynetoSirNigel,“thatwehaveneverinjuredthesemen,norhavewecauseofquarrelagainstthem.Woulditnotbewell,ifbutforthelady'ssake,tospeakthemfairandseeifwemaynotcometohonorabletermswiththem?” “Notso,bySt.Paul!”criedSirNigel.“Itdoesnotaccordwithminehonor,norshalliteverbesaidthatI,aknightofEngland,wasreadytoholdparleywithmenwhohaveslainafairladyandaholypriest.” “Aswellholdparleywithapackofraveningwolves,”saidtheFrenchcaptain.“Ha!NotreDameDuGuesclin!SaintIves!SaintIves!” Ashethunderedforthhiswar-cry,theJackswhohadbeengatheringbeforetheblackarchofthegatewayrushedinmadlyinadesperateefforttocarrythestaircase.Theirleaderswereasmallman,darkintheface,withhisbearddoneupintwoplaits,andanotherlargerman,verybowedintheshoulders,withahugeclubstuddedwithsharpnailsinhishand.ThefirsthadnottakenthreestepsereanarrowfromAylward'sbowstruckhimfullinthechest,andhefellcoughingandsplutteringacrossthethreshold.Theotherrushedonwards,andbreakingbetweenDuGuesclinandSirNigelhedashedoutthebrainsoftheBohemianwithasingleblowofhisclumsyweapon.Withthreeswordsthroughhimhestillstruggledon,andhadalmostwonhiswaythroughthemerehefelldeaduponthestair.Closeathisheelscameahundredfuriouspeasants,whoflungthemselvesagainandagainagainstthefiveswordswhichconfrontedthem.Itwascutandparryandstabasquickaseyecouldseeorhandact.Thedoorwaspiledwithbodies,andthestonefloorwasslipperywithblood.ThedeepshoutofDuGuesclin,thehard,hissingbreathofthepressingmultitude,theclatterofsteel,thethudoffallingbodies,andthescreamsofthestricken,madeupsuchamedleyascameofteninafteryearstobreakuponAlleyne'ssleep.Slowlyandsullenlyatlastthethrongdrewoff,withmanyafiercebackwardglance,whileelevenoftheirnumberlayhuddledinfrontofthestairwhichtheyhadfailedtowin. “Thedogshavehadenough,”saidDuGuesclin. “BySaintPaul!thereappeartobesomeveryworthyandvaliantpersonsamongthem,”observedSirNigel.“Theyaremenfromwhom,hadtheybeenofbetterbirth,muchhonorandadvancementmightbegained.Evenasitis,itisagreatpleasuretohaveseenthem.Butwhatisthisthattheyarebringingforward?” “ItisasIfeared,”growledDuGuesclin.“Theywillburnusout,sincetheycannotwintheirwaypastus.Shootstraightandhard,archersfor,bySt.Ives!ourgoodswordsareoflittleusetous.” Ashespoke,adozenmenrushedforward,eachscreeninghimselfbehindahugefardelofbrushwood.Hurlingtheirburdensinonevastheapwithintheportal,theythrewburningtorchesuponthetopofit.Thewoodhadbeensoakedinoil,forinaninstantitwasablaze,andalong,hissing,yellowflamelickedovertheheadsofthedefenders,anddrovethemfurtheruptothefirstfloorofthekeep.Theyhadscarcereachedit,however,eretheyfoundthatthewoodenjoi