“Best come away while there 's time, mistress,” answered Peter. “I must to the good wife and the children, and take them to the manor for safety.”
“I 'm a ditcher, and no soldier,” said another. “Let them as know how fight!”
“The French is no plain flesh and blood, but wizards,” grumbled a third.
And always they went backward.
“Cowards!” said the maid. “Is this the way ye 'll take the kingdom out o' the grasp o' the nobles, and are too fearsome to run upon a handful of French?”
“Smoke! Look ye!” cried a man. “They 've set the mill afire. They 'll be on us! They 'll be on us!”
Whereupon panic seized them, and they all turned about and fled; and Calote ran after, calling “Cowards!” and “Shame!” and “Is 't so ye 'd serve the King?‘ and ’Slaves! Oh, coward slaves!” till she had no breath to speak nor run, and so dropped down sobbing by the road and let them go.
After a breathing space, she began to hear voices behind; and she got to her feet and hurried on to the village.
'T was now the French that came up the coombe, and as they came they sang. They had the parson with them. The miller and his children they had slain and cast into the fire; but 't was against conscience to kill parsons. The miller's wife went blubbering betwixt two knights, that quarrelled together very playful concerning her.
In the village every house was empty—every cottage door was wide.