Saint Bartholomew's Eve: A Tale of the Huguenot Wars

by G. A. Henty

"If it is put where they can see it," he said, "they will feel sure that it is in answer to that fire behind them, and will ride at full speed, so as to get here before the news spreads. If they see no answering fire, they may suppose that the first was but an accident. They may even halt at the village, and send off some men to see what has caused the fire; or if they ride straight through, they will be at some little distance before Simon has got to the fire and lighted it, and may not care to waste time sending back. At any rate, it is better that they should see no flame up here."

They had often talked the matter over, and had agreed that, even if the column was composed only of cavalry, it would be from an hour and a half to two hours before it arrived at the chateau, as it would doubtless have performed a long journey; while if there were infantry with them, they would take double that time.

Directly an alarm had been given, two of the youngest and most active of the men-at-arms had set off, to take post at the point where the road crossed the hill. Their orders were to lie still till all had passed, and then to make their way back along the hill, at full speed, to inform the garrison of the strength and composition of the attacking force.

When they returned to the chateau, people were already pouring in from the neighbouring farms; the women staggering under heavy burdens, and the men driving their cattle before them, or leading strings of horses. The seneschal and the retainers were at work, trying to keep some sort of order; directing the men to drive the cattle into the countess's garden, and the women to put down their belongings in the courtyard, where they would be out of the way; while the countess saw that her maids spread rushes, thickly, along by the walls of the rooms that were to be given up to the use of the women and children.

Cressets had been lighted in the courtyard, but the bonfire was now extinguished so that the enemy, on reaching the top of the hill, should see nothing to lead them to suppose that their coming was known. The alarm bell had ceased sending its loud summons into the air; but there was still a variety of noises that were almost deafening: the lowing of cattle, disturbed and angered at the unaccustomed movement; mingled with the shouts of men, the barking of dogs, and the crying of frightened children.

"I will aid the seneschal in getting things into order down here, Francois," Philip said, "while you see to the defence of the walls, posting the men, and getting everything in readiness to give them a reception. I will look after the postern doors, and see that the planks across the moats are removed, and the bolts and bars in place."

Francois nodded and, bidding the men-at-arms, who had already returned, stable their horses and follow him, he proceeded to the walls.

"This is enough to make one weep," Pierre said, as the oxen poured into the courtyard, and then through the archway that led to the countess's garden.

"What is enough, Pierre? To see all these poor women and children, who are likely to behold their homesteads in flames, before many hours?"

"Well, I did not mean that, master; though I don't say that is not sad enough, in its way; but that is the fortune of war, as it were. I meant the countess's garden being destroyed. The beasts will trample down all the shrubs and, in a week, it will be no better than a farmyard."