These were the poor fellow’s last words, for the next moment saw him laid beside his slain comrades, while the heroes of this daring venture leaped upon the horses which their confederate held in readiness, and dashed off at full gallop toward the town. But the alarm had been given, and the whole camp swarmed out like a hive of enraged bees.
“Foes! treason!” roared a hundred voices. “Down with ’em, comrades! no mercy to spies!”
But this was easier said than done. Well mounted, and fully armed, the three broke through their disordered assailants like a spider’s web, and more than one stout fellow who thrust himself in their way paid dearly for his rashness.
“Well done, Roland! for a Breton jester, thou hast played right deftly the part of an English man-at-arms!” said the shorter of the two knights—a square, thick-set, powerful man in black armour, with a hoarse laugh. “Lucky for us, in sooth, thou hast learned their tongue so well, when captive among the dogs in Picardy. Well, Huon, lad, our work is done, and we must ride for it, if we would see another sun rise!”
“THE BLACK KNIGHT TURNED LIKE A HUNTED LION”
“I care not, since we have saved the town,” said his comrade—no other than Huon de St. Yvon, the youngest of Du Guesclin’s turbulent cousins, now a wiser and better man than when his fierce brothers fell by his side on Calais causeway, five years before. “Yon accursed tower will never harm any one more, save the English rogues who handle it.”
At that moment, as if to make good his words, came a deafening crash behind them, and a fearful cry. At the first push that urged the undermined tower toward the walls, it had come thundering down, dashing itself to pieces, and crushing more than a score of the English soldiers.
Taking advantage of the confusion caused by this unlooked-for disaster, the three bold men broke through or rode down all who barred their way, and were already near the gate, when down went Huon in a cloud of dust, horse and man. One of the countless arrows that whizzed around them had mortally wounded his gallant steed, which fell with its rider, bruising him sorely in the fall.
Quick as thought, the black knight sprang from his horse, dragged his fainting comrade up into the saddle, and bidding Roland ride by the hurt man and support him till he reached the town, turned like a hunted lion on the pursuing English, whirling his mighty axe over his head with both hands.