CHAPTER XXXI. HOW FIVE MEN HELD THE KEEP OF VILLEFRANCHE

stsandplanksoftheflooringwerealreadyonfire.Dryandworm-eaten,asparkuponthembecameasmoulder,andasmoulderablaze.Achokingsmokefilledtheair,andthefivecouldscarcegropetheirwaytothestaircasewhichleduptotheverysummitofthesquaretower. Strangewasthescenewhichmettheireyesfromthiseminence.Beneaththemoneverysidestretchedthelongsweepofpeacefulcountry,rollingplain,andtangledwood,allsoftenedandmellowedinthesilvermoonshine.Nolight,normovement,noranysignofhumanaidcouldbeseen,butfarawaythehoarseclangorofaheavybellroseandfelluponthewintryair.Beneathandaroundthemblazedthehugefire,roaringandcracklingoneverysideofthebailey,andevenastheylookedthetwocornerturretsfellinwithadeafeningcrash,andthewholecastlewasbutashapelessmass,spoutingflamesandsmokefromeverywindowandembrasure.Thegreatblacktoweruponwhichtheystoodroselikealastislandofrefugeamidthisseaoffirebuttheominouscracklingandroaringbelowshowedthatitwouldnotbelongereitwasengulfedalsointhecommonruin.Attheirveryfeetwasthesquarecourtyard,crowdedwiththehowlinganddancingpeasants,theirfiercefacesupturned,theirclenchedhandswaving,alldrunkwithbloodshedandwithvengeance.Ayellofexecrationandascreamofhideouslaughterburstfromthevastthrong,astheysawthefacesofthelastsurvivorsoftheirenemiespeeringdownatthemfromtheheightofthekeep.Theystillpiledthebrushwoodroundthebaseofthetower,andgambolledhandinhandaroundtheblaze,screamingoutthedoggerellineswhichhadlongbeenthewatchwordoftheJacquerie: Cessez,cessez,gensd'armesetpietons, Depilleretmangerlebonhomme QuidelongtempsJacquesBonhomme Senomme. Theirthin,shrillvoicesrosehighabovetheroaroftheflamesandthecrashofthemasonry,liketheyelpingofapackofwolveswhoseetheirquarrybeforethemandknowthattheyhavewell-nighrunhimdown. “Bymyhilt!”saidAylwardtoJohn,“itisinmymindthatweshallnotseeSpainthisjourney.ItisagreatjoytomethatIhaveplacedmyfeather-bedandotherthingsofpricewiththatworthywomanatLyndhurst,whowillnowhavetheuseofthem.Ihavethirteenarrowsyet,andifoneofthemflyunfleshed,then,bythetwangofstring!Ishalldeservemydoom.Firstathimwhoflauntswithmylady'ssilkenfrock.Clapintheclout,byGod!thoughahand's-breadthlowerthanIhadmeant.Nowfortheroguewiththeheaduponhispike.Ha!totheinch,John.Whenmyeyeistrue,Iambetteratroversthanatlong-buttsorhoyles.Agoodshootforyoualso,John!Thevillainhathfallenforwardintothefire.ButIprayyou,John,toloosegently,andnottopluckwiththedrawing-hand,foritisatrickthathathmarredmanyafinebowman.” Whilstthetwoarcherswerekeepingupabriskfireuponthemobbeneaththem,DuGuesclinandhisladywereconsultingwithSirNigelupontheirdesperatesituation. “'Tisastrangeendforonewhohasseensomanystrickenfields,”saidtheFrenchchieftain.“Formeonedeathisasanother,butitisthethoughtofmysweetladywhichgoestomyheart.” “Nay,Bertrand,Ifearitaslittleasyou,”saidshe.“HadImydearestwish,itwouldbethatweshouldgotogether.” “Wellanswered,fairlady!”criedSirNigel.“AndverysureIamthatmyownsweetwifewouldhavesaidthesame.Iftheendbenowcome,Ihavehadgreatgoodfortuneinhavinglivedintimeswhensomuchglorywastobewon,andinknowingsomanyvaliantgentlemenandknights.Butwhydoyoupluckmysleeve,Alleyne?” “Ifitpleaseyou,myfairlord,thereareinthiscornertwogreattubesofiron,withmanyheavyballs,whichmayperchancebethosebombardsandshotofwhichIhaveheard.” “BySaintIves!itistrue,”criedSirBertrand,stridingacrosstotherecesswheretheungainly,funnel-shaped,thick-ribbedengineswerestanding.“Bombardstheyare,andofgoodsize.Wemayshootdownuponthem.” “Shootwithth