Thus defended, Nancy held out until Charles, maddened to fury by so unexpected and so prolonged a resistance, made a final, desperate attempt to carry the town. By stratagem, quite as much as by force, he succeeded in gaining an entrance within the walls; and Nancy was at his mercy.
In the flush of vengeance and success, he was for putting at once all the inhabitants—men, women, and children—to the sword. A young maiden was brought before him.
“Barbarian!” she cried, “if we are all to perish, over whom will you reign?”
“Who are you, bold girl! that dare to speak to me thus?” said the astonished Charles.
“Your prisoner, and one who would prevent you from adding to the list of your cruelties!”
Her beauty, her courage, and the prophetic tones in which she spoke, arrested Charles’s fury.
“Give up to me your governor, whom I have sworn to punish,” he said, “and a portion of the inhabitants shall be spared.”
But the governor was her own father,—for the young girl was no other than Télésile. Listening to the entreaties of his friends, he had assumed the dress of a private citizen; and all loved the good old man too well to point him out to the tyrant.
When Télésile sorrowfully reported to her father the duke’s words, he smiled. “Be of good cheer, my daughter!” he said. “I will see the Duke Charles, and try what I can do to persuade him.”
When brought before the conqueror, he said, “There is but one man who can bring the governor to you. Swear on your sword to spare all the inhabitants of the town, and he shall be given up.”