Suddenly a girl's voice close at hand broke into a quick wail of horror and fear. Linda, clasping her hands closely together, cried in tones of lament,—
"It has begun! it has begun! They are fighting now. Oh, what will be the end of this?"
"Come, Mistress Alys," spoke Amalric, in tones that unconsciously betrayed anxiety and authority, "we must not linger here. It is too true; they have begun to fight in earnest now."
And so it was. Either the excitement of the moment had been too much for the combatants, or there had been evil influences at work; but whatever the cause, there was no mistaking the result. Yells of execration and defiance, screams of agony from the wounded, threats, menaces, curses, rent the air, and in a moment the scene was changed from one of revelry and sport to one of fury and bloodshed. It was no sight for a maiden's eyes, and Alys was hurried by her attendants through the rough ground of Broken Heys and into the Barbican Lane, where still the shouts of the multitude pursued her, and the din of battle drowned all other sounds.
"Oh, what is happening—what is happening?" she cried, as the party halted at last beneath the gateway. "Oh, do not let Hugh le Barbier fall into the hands of his foes! Cannot some of you rescue him from those wicked men?"
Her words were not altogether understood, but enough had passed upon the subject to cause Amalric to cry,—
"Now that thou art safe, sweet lady, I will ride back and see what I can do to stop this riot, and save our friend if he be in any peril;" and Leofric sprang to his stirrup and said,—
"Let me run with thee, sir, and strike a blow for my friend, if need be. I know not what is purposed against him, but methinks this fight will not fail to be taken advantage of by his enemy."
Leofric could run like a hare, and had no difficulty in keeping pace with Amalric's steed as they once more crossed the broken ground towards the meadow. The light was fading by this time, but the din of battle was louder than ever, and it seemed as though the whole populace of the town had now joined in one indiscriminate mêlée. From within the walls could be heard the clanging of the bells of St. Martin's and St. Mary's—signals that mischief was abroad; and from the gates of the city the Chancellor and his men were already issuing, the Proctors in attendance, to seek to quell this formidable riot, in which at least half the University clerks were involved.
The Constable of the Castle on his side had come forth with a guard, and at sight of these dignitaries bearing down upon them from either side the combatants paused and wavered. Then the men of the North, who were getting the upper hand, made a sudden dash forward, drove their adversaries before them pell-mell through the open gate from which the Chancellor had lately issued, hewed down numbers of them in their rush, and made for their own Halls and lodgings, barricading themselves into these and hurling defiance at the promoters of law and order, and flinging stones and other offensive missiles at any who sought to dislodge them.