"The tower will soon fall, and these are ready to rush in," said Beatrice.
"But how falls it?" asked Aliva. "Thou art in the miner's secrets; tell, prithee."
"They tie ropes to the great wooden beams and props on which John hath supported the foundations. At a safe distance stand men ready to pull them away; and then--ah, our Lady have them in her keeping!"
And as she spoke a sound was heard, a rumbling as of thunder, followed by a cloud of blinding dust, which obscured everything--court-yard, men, and masonry. There was a fearful crash, and the girls shrank with terror and looked at each other.
"Oh, this is horrible!" whispered Aliva, hiding her face.
"My lady, my lady, I can see! The tower is down--it is a heap of rubble; and they come, they come! O lady, you are saved!"
"Saved!" said Aliva with a sad smile, shaking her head; "what boots it now? What wish have I for aught but death?"
"Death, lady? and in the moment of victory? Oh, speak not so! See the king's men, how they hurry, they scramble, they pour through the breach! 'Tis a noble sight. Forward, forward! Down with the Breauté!" shouted the excited waiting-woman, opening the shutter wide and craning out her neck.
"Beatrice, have a care. They will let fly a bolt at thee, and what will say the master miner? Thou hast some one to live for!"
"If I die for it, I must look!" protested Beatrice. "Oh, the king's men, how they fall! Alas, alas! William de Breauté hath well posted his men in all the best places for defence! But on they come--they waver not! By my halidom, there comes a gallant band, though small! How fast that knight leads them across the inner bailey! They make for the steps of the door of the keep. But how thick the arrows fly! William must have lined every loophole in the donjon and in the hall with men!"