IT was late ere Alleyne Edricson, having carried Sir Nigel thegoblet of spiced wine which it was his custom to drink after thecurling of his hair, was able at last to seek his chamber. Itwas astone-flagged room upon the second floor, with a bed in a recessfor him, and two smaller pallets on the other side, on whichAylward and Hordle John were already snoring. Alleyne had kneltdown to his evening orisons, when there came a tap at his door,and Ford entered with a small lamp in his hand. His face wasdeadly pale, and his hand shook until the shadows flickered upand down the wall.

"What is it, Ford?" cried Alleyne, springing to his feet.

"I can scarce tell you, said he, sitting down on the side of thecouch, and resting his chin upon his hand. "I know not what tosay or what to think."

"Has aught befallen you, then?"

"Yes, or I have been slave to my own fancy. I tell you, lad,that I am all undone, like a fretted bow-string. Hark hither,Alleyne! it cannot be that you have forgotten little Tita, thedaughter of the old glass-stainer at Bordeaux?"

"I remember her well."

"She and I, Alleyne, broke the lucky groat together ere weparted, and she wears my ring upon her finger. 'Caro mio,' quothshe when last we parted, 'I shall be near thee in the wars, andthy danger will be my danger.' Alleyne, as God is my help, as Icame up the stairs this night I saw her stand before me, her facein tears, her hands out as though in warning--I saw it, Alleyne,even as I see those two archers upon their couches. Our veryfinger-tips seemed to meet, ere she thinned away like a mist inthe sunshine."

"I would not give overmuch thought to it," answered Alleyne. "Ourminds will play us strange pranks, and bethink you that thesewords of the Lady Tiphaine Du Guesclin have wrought upon us andshaken us."

Ford shook his head. "I saw little Tita as clearly as though Iwere back at the Rue des Apotres at Bordeaux," said he.

"But the hour is late, and I must go."

"Where do you sleep, then?"

"In the chamber above you. May the saints be with us all!" Herose from the couch and left the chamber, while Alleyne couldhear his feet sounding upon the winding stair. The young squirewalked across to the window and gazed out at the moonlitlandscape, his mind absorbed by the thought of the Lady Tiphaine,and of the strange words that she had spoken as to what was goingforward at Castle Twynham. Leaning his elbows upon thestonework, he was deeply plunged in reverie, when in a moment histhoughts were brought back to Villefranche and to the scenebefore him.

The window at which he stood was in the second floor of thatportion of the castle which was nearest to the keep. In frontlay the broad moat, with the moon lying upon its surface, nowclear and round, now drawn lengthwise as the breeze stirred thewaters. Beyond, the plain sloped down to a thick wood, whilefurther to the left a second wood shut out the view. Between thetwo an open glade stretched, silvered in the moonshine, with theriver curving across the lower end of it.

As he gazed, he saw of a sudden a man steal forth from the woodinto the open clearing. He walked with his head sunk, hisshoulders curved, and his knees bent, as one who strives hard toremain unseen. Ten paces from the fringe of trees he glancedaround, and waving his hand he crouched down, and was lost tosight among a belt of furze-bushes. After him there came asecond man, and after him a third, a fourth, and a fifth stealingacross the narrow open space and darting into the shelter of thebrushwood. Nine-and-seventy Alleyne counted of these darkfigures flitting across the line of the moonlight. Many borehuge burdens upon their backs, though what it was that theycarried he could not tell at the distance. Out of the one woodand into the other they passed, all with the same crouching,furtive gait, until the black bristle of trees had swallowed upthe last of them.

For a moment Alleyne stood in the window, still staring down atthe silent forest, uncertain as to what he should think of thesemidnight walkers. Then he bethought him that there was onebeside him who was fitter to judge on such a matter. His fingershad scarce rested upon Aylward's shoulder ere the bowman was onhis feet, with his hand outstretched to his sword.

"Qui va?" he cried. "Hola! mon petit. By my hilt! I thoughtthere had been a camisade. What then, mon gar.?"

"Come hither by the window, Aylward," said Alleyne. "I have seenfour-score men pass from yonder shaw across the glade, and nighevery man of them had a great burden on his back. What think youof it?"

"I think nothing of it, mon camarade! There are as manymasterless folk in this country as there are rabbits on CowdrayDown, and there are many who show their faces by night but woulddance in a hempen collar if they stirred forth in the day. On allthe French marches are droves of outcasts, reivers, spoilers, anddraw-latches, of whom I judge that these are some, though Imarvel that they should dare to come so nigh to the castle of theseneschal. All seems very quiet now," he added, peering out ofthe window.

"They are in the further wood," said Alleyne.

"And there they may bide. Back to rest, mon petit; for, by myhilt! each day now will bring its own work. Yet it would be wellto shoot the bolt in yonder door when one is in strange quarters.So!" He threw himself down upon his pallet and in an instant wasfast asleep.

It might have been about three o'clock in the morning whenAlleyne was aroused from a troubled sleep by a low cry orexclamation. He listened, but, as he heard no more, he set itdown as the challenge of the guard upon the walls, and droppedoff to sleep once more. A few minutes later he was disturbed bya gentle creaking of his own door, as though some one werepushing cautiously against it, and immediately afterwards heheard the soft thud of cautious footsteps upon the stair whichled to the room above, followed by a confused noise and a muffledgroan. Alleyne sat up on his couch with all his nerves in atingle, uncertain whether these sounds might come from a simplecause--some sick archer and visiting leech perhaps--or whetherthey might have a more sinister meaning, But what danger couldthreaten them here in this strong castle, under the care offamous warriors, with high walls and a broad moat around them?Who was there that could injure them? He had well-nigh persuadedhimself that his fears were a foolish fancy, when his eyes fellupon that which sent the blood cold to his heart and left himgasping, with hands clutching at the counterpane.

Right in front of him was the broad window of the chamber, withthe moon shining brightly through it. For an instant somethinghad obscured the light, and now a head was bobbing up and downoutside, the face looking in at him, and swinging slowly from oneside of the window to the other. Even in that dim light therecould be no mistaking those features. Drawn, distorted andblood-stained, they were still those of the young fellow-squirewho had sat so recently upon his own couch. With a cry of horrorAlleyne sprang from his bed and rushed to the casement, while thetwo archers, aroused by the sound, seized their weapons andstared about them in bewilderment. One glance was enough to showEdricson that his fears were but too true. Foully murdered,with a score of wounds upon him and a rope round his neck, hispoor friend had been cast from the upper window and swung slowlyin the night wind, his body rasping against the wall and hisdisfigured face upon a level with the casement.

"My God!" cried Alleyne, shaking in every limb. "What has comeupon us? What devil's deed is this?"

"Here is flint and steel," said John stolidly. "The lamp,Aylward! This moonshine softens a man's heart. Now we may usethe eyes which God hath given us."

"By my hilt!" cried Aylward, as the yellow flame flickered up,"it is indeed young master Ford, and I think that this seneschalis a black villain, who dare not face us in the day but wouldmurther us in our sleep. By the twang of string I if I do notsoak a goose's feather with his heart's blood, it will be nofault of Samkin Aylward of the White Company."

"But, Aylward, think of the men whom I saw yesternight," saidAlleyne. "It may not be the seneschal. It may be that othershave come into the castle. I must to Sir Nigel ere it be toolate. Let me go, Aylward, for my place is by his side."

"One moment, mon gar. Put that steel head-piece on the end of myyew-stave. So! I will put it first through the door; for it isill to come out when you can neither see nor guard yourself. Now,camarades, out swords and stand ready! Hola, by my hilt! it istime that we were stirring!"

As he spoke, a sudden shouting broke forth in the castle, withthe scream of a woman and the rush of many feet. Then came thesharp clink of clashing steel, and a roar like that of an angrylion--"Notre Dame Du Guesclin! St. Ives! St. Ives!" The bow-manpulled back the bolt of the door, and thrust out the headpiece atthe end of the bow. A clash, the clatter of the steel-cap uponthe ground, and, ere the man who struck could heave up foranother blow, the archer had passed his sword through his body."On, camarades, on!" he cried; and, breaking fiercely past twomen who threw themselves in his way, he sped down the broadcorridor in the direction of the shouting.

A sharp turning, and then a second one, brought them to the headof a short stair, from which they looked straight down upon thescene of the uproar. A square oak-floored hall lay beneath them,from which opened the doors of the principal guest-chambers.This hall was as light as day, for torches burned in numeroussconces upon the walls, throwing strange shadows from the tuskedor antlered heads which ornamented them. At the very foot of thestair, close to the open door of their chamber, lay the seneschaland his wife: she with her head shorn from her shoulders, hethrust through with a sharpened stake, which still protruded fromeither side of his body. Three servants of the castle lay deadbeside them, all torn and draggled, as though a pack of wolveshad been upon them. In front of the central guest-chamber stoodDu Guesclin and Sir Nigel, half-clad and unarmored, with the madjoy of battle gleaming in their eyes. Their heads were thrownback, their lips compressed, their blood-stained swords poisedover their right shoulders, and their left feet thrown out.Three dead men lay huddled together in front of them: while afourth, with the blood squirting from a severed vessel, lay backwith updrawn knees, breathing in wheezy gasps. Further back--allpanting together, like the wind in a tree--there stood a group offierce, wild creatures, bare-armed and bare-legged, gaunt,unshaven, with deep-set murderous eyes and wild beast faces.With their flashing teeth, their bristling hair, their madleapings and screamings, they seemed to Alleyne more like fiendsfrom the pit than men of flesh and blood. Even as he looked,they broke into a hoarse yell and dashed once more upon the twoknights, hurling themselves madly upon their sword-points;clutching, scrambling, biting, tearing, careless of wounds ifthey could but drag the two soldiers to earth. Sir Nigel wasthrown down by the sheer weight of them, and Sir Bertrand withhis thunderous war-cry was swinging round his heavy sword toclear a space for him to rise, when the whistle of two longEnglish arrows, and the rush of the squire and the two Englisharchers down the stairs, turned the tide of the combat. Theassailants gave back, the knights rushed forward, and in a veryfew moments the hall was cleared, and Hordle John had hurled thelast of the wild men down the steep steps which led from the endof it.

"Do not follow them," cried Du Guesclin. "We are lost if wescatter. For myself I care not a denier, though it is a poorthing to meet one's end at the hands of such scum; but I have mydear lady here, who must by no means be risked. We havebreathing-space now, and I would ask you, Sir Nigel, what it isthat you would counsel?"

"By St. Paul!" answered Sir Nigel, "I can by no means understandwhat hath befallen us, save that I have been woken up by yourbattle-cry, and, rushing forth, found myself in the midst of thissmall bickering. Harrow and alas for the lady and the seneschal!What dogs are they who have done this bloody deed?"

"They are the Jacks, the men of the brushwood. They have thecastle, though I know not how it hath come to pass, Look fromthis window into the bailey."

"By heaven!" cried Sir Nigel, "it is as bright as day with thetorches. The gates stand open, and there are three thousand ofthem within the walls. See how they rush and scream and wave!What is it that they thrust out through the postern door? MyGod! it is a man-at-arms, and they pluck him limb from limb likehounds on a wolf. Now another, and yet another. They hold thewhole castle, for I see their faces at the windows. See, thereare some with great bundles on their backs."

"It is dried wood from the forest. They pile them against thewalls and set them in a blaze. Who is this who tries to checkthem? By St. Ives! it is the good priest who spake for them inthe hall. He kneels, he prays, he implores! What! villains,would ye raise hands against those who have befriended you? Ah,the butcher has struck him! He is down! They stamp him undertheir feet! They tear off his gown and wave it in the air! Seenow, how the flames lick up the walls! Are there none left torally round us? With a hundred men we might hold our own."

"Oh, for my Company!" cried Sir Nigel. "But where is Ford,Alleyne?"

"He is foully murdered, my fair lord."

"The saints receive him! May he rest in peace! But here comesome at last who may give us counsel, for amid these passages itis ill to stir without a guide."

As he spoke, a French squire and the Bohemian knight came rushingdown the steps, the latter bleeding from a slash across hisforehead.

"All is lost!" he cried. "The castle is taken and on fire, theseneschal is slain, and there is nought left for us."

"On the contrary," quoth Sir Nigel, "there is much left to us,for there is a very honorable contention before us, and a fairlady for whom to give our lives. There are many ways in which aman might die, but none better than this."

"You can tell us, Godfrey," said Du Guesclin to the Frenchsquire: "how came these men into the castle, and what succors canwe count upon? By St. Ives! if we come not quickly to somecounsel we shall be burned like young rooks in a nest."

The squire, a dark, slender stripling, spoke firmly and quickly,as one who was trained to swift action. "There is a passageunder the earth into the castle," said he, "and through it someof the Jacks made their way, casting open the gates for theothers. They have had help from within the walls, and the men-at-arms were heavy with wine: they must have been slain in theirbeds, for these devils crept from room to room with soft step andready knife. Sir Amory the Hospitaller was struck down with anaxe as he rushed before us from his sleeping-chamber. Save onlyourselves, I do not think that there are any left alive."

"What, then, would you counsel?"

"That we make for the keep. It is unused, save in time of war,and the key hangs from my poor lord and master's belt."

"There are two keys there."

"It is the larger. Once there, we might hold the narrow stair;and at least, as the walls are of a greater thickness, it wouldbe longer ere they could burn them. Could we but carry the ladyacross the bailey, all might be well with us."

"Nay; the lady hath seen something of the work of war," saidTiphaine coming forth, as white, as grave, and as unmoved asever. "I would not be a hamper to you, my dear spouse andgallant friend. Rest assured of this, that if all else fail Ihave always a safeguard here"--drawing a small silver-hiltedponiard from her bosom--"which sets me beyond the fear of thesevile and blood-stained wretches."

"Tiphaine," cried Du Guesclin, "I have always loved you; and now,by Our Lady of Rennes! I love you more than ever. Did I not knowthat your hand will be as ready as your words I would myself turnmy last blow upon you, ere you should fall into their hands.Lead on, Godfrey! A new golden pyx will shine in the minster ofDinan if we come safely through with it."

The attention of the insurgents had been drawn away from murderto plunder, and all over the castle might be heard their criesand whoops of delight as they dragged forth the rich tapestries,the silver flagons, and the carved furniture. Down in thecourtyard half-clad wretches, their bare limbs all mottled withblood-stains, strutted about with plumed helmets upon theirheads, or with the Lady Rochefort's silken gowns girt round theirloins and trailing on the ground behind them. Casks of choicewine had been rolled out from the cellars, and starving peasantssquatted, goblet in hand, draining off vintages which DeRochefort had set aside for noble and royal guests. Others, withslabs of bacon and joints of dried meat upon the ends of theirpikes, held them up to the blaze or tore at them ravenously withtheir teeth. Yet all order had not been lost amongst them, forsome hundreds of the better armed stood together in a silentgroup, leaning upon their rude weapons and looking up at thefire, which had spread so rapidly as to involve one whole side ofthe castle. Already Alleyne could hear the crackling and roaringof the flames, while the air was heavy with heat and full of thepungent whiff of burning wood.