The vassals flew upon the seigneurs. A few of them offered a desperate resistance and were killed, but the larger number of the knights, demoralized and terror-stricken by the suddenness of the attack allowed themselves to be bound. Among these were the aged seigneur of Chivry, Gerard of Chaumontel and the Sire of Nointel, the last of whom was torn from the arms of his bride. More furious than frightened, Gloriande gave a loose to imprecations and insults that she hurled at the revolted serfs. Adam the Devil seized and overpowered her, tearing in the attempt her wedding dress to shreds, and tied her hands behind her back, while with refined ferocity he observed:
"To each his turn, my noble damosel.... Last year you laughed at us at the tourney of Nointel.... Now it is our turn to laugh at you, my amorous belle!"
"This English prisoner knows me!" exclaimed Gloriande. "Is all this but a horrible dream? Conrad, revenge your wife!"
"I am a vassal of the seigniory of Nointel, and not an Englishman, my belle," answered Adam the Devil. "The rôle of prisoner was imposed upon us by your noble husband, your valiant knight, the Sire of Nointel, too much of a coward to make real prisoners. He met us just outside of the forest and ordered us under pain of hanging to accompany him hither and be the accomplices of his trick upon you by figuring as the English prisoners that he was to lead to you from the battle that was fought. We consented to the masquerade. It helped us in our plan to enter your father's castle. One of us, managing to escape on the road, took to our companions the order to draw near the manor by nightfall. We cut the throats of the guards, lowered the bridge and let our Jacques in. Now we are going to laugh at you, my belle ... just as you laughed at us at the tourney of Nointel! It is now our turn to feast."
Gloriande allowed Adam the Devil to speak without interrupting him. And shuddering with painful indignation she cried: "Conrad lied.... Conrad is a coward!"
"Yes, your nobleman of a husband is a liar and a coward," rejoined Adam the Devil, dragging Gloriande towards the other extremity of the hall. "A beauty like you deserves a braver husband. I shall take you to the kind of lover you have been dreaming of."
Gloriande of Chivry forgot for a moment the dangers that beset her and the terror that had begun to seize her mind. Overwhelmed by the idea, horrible to her pride, that Conrad of Nointel was a coward, she let herself be dragged without resistance towards the other end of the hall.
In the center of the Jacques who had formed a circle stood William Caillet reclining on the handle of his heavy axe; near him were Jocelyn the Champion with his arms across his breast, and Mazurec the Lambkin, now the widower of Aveline-who-never-lied. Only partly clad in rough sheep-skin, his hair matted, his arms bare and blood-bespattered, with the cavity of one eye hollow, his nose crushed, his upper lip split—the serf presented a repulsive aspect. Adam the Devil pushed Gloriande towards Mazurec saying: "There is your new husband! Come, my pretty lass, embrace your lord and master!"
At the sight of the disfigured serf Gloriande drew back and uttered a cry of fright; but terror palsied her brain when she saw Mazurec slowly advancing upon her with his one eye burning with hatred, and laying his callous hand upon her shoulder say in a hollow voice: "In the name of force ... you are mine ... the same as in the name of force my bride Aveline belonged to Conrad of Nointel...."
"What is the monster saying?" muttered the distracted Gloriande drawing back and seeking to free herself from the grasp of the vassal. "Father!... Come to my help, father!"