All had to be begun over again. John de Standen and his men once more set to work. The cat was wheeled up close to the walls of the keep, and the digging recommenced. This time the task was more laborious and difficult than ever. The foundations were strongly laid. The work of Pain de Beauchamp was built to last, and the besieged did all they could to hinder the operations. It was not till the fourteenth of August that De Standen could report that his work was ready.
Late that afternoon the fourth and last attack commenced. The miners sprung a huge fissure in the wall of the keep. Simultaneously another agent was set to work--fire. A light was set to the wooden porch over the steps.
The work was finished. The flames, caught the woodwork within, and broke out in some of the apartments. Through fire and smoke the besiegers stormed the breach, the besieged fighting desperately, and only yielding step by step.
"Through fire and smoke the besiegers stormed the breach."
At last, however, William de Breauté was forced to acknowledge himself beaten.
"My brother cannot say I did not do my utmost," he gasped to one of his officers as they leaned exhausted against the pillar of the turret stair.
"Yield thee, now yield thee, William de Breauté!" cried a voice through the din.
"I yield me to the king's mercy," began the Frenchman, "but not to thee," he added, as the tall form and gloomy visage of William de Beauchamp loomed down upon through the smoke. "To a De Beauchamp? never!"
His men had ceased to offer any resistance, and stood with spears and swords point downwards and cross-bows unstrung. William looked around.