"To draw the broken cottage-roof to the shore, sir knight, I suppose," replied the other, "lest it should damage the bridge."
"See, there comes down a bull!" cried the Count; "how furiously he struggles with the stream.--Ha! they have caught the roof with their hooks. They have got it--no!"
They had indeed obtained for a moment some hold upon the heavy mass of timber and straw that came rushing down, and were dragging it towards the little island; but the stream was increasing so rapidly, and pouring such a body of water upon the land where they stood, that one of the men slipped, and let go his pole, glad enough to be dragged out of the eddy by those behind.
The roof at the same moment swang round and disengaged itself. The bull, still struggling with the torrent, was dashed against the bridge and recoiled. The heavy mass of thatch and wood-work was borne forward upon him with the full force of the stream, and crushed him between itself and the piers. A shrill and horrible cry--something between a roar and a scream, burst from amidst the fierce rushing sound of the overwhelming waters; the whole mass of the floating roof was cast furiously upon the weaker part of the bridge in the centre, already shaken by the torrent; and with an awful crash the whole structure gave way, and was borne in fragments down the stream.
"The flood has reached the mill," said the Count of St. Paul, turning to the man-at-arms; "is there no danger of its being carried away, too?"
"The miller would tell you, none, my dreaded lord," replied the soldier; "but every day is not like to-day; and what has happened once may happen again. He always says there is no danger, since he put up an image of the blessed Virgin over the door; but I recollect when I was a little boy, and lived at Givet, that island was six feet under water, and where there was a mill in the morning, you could row over in a boat at night. They were all drowned, this man's uncle and all."
"Why are you stripping off your casque and camail, Sir Richard?" asked the Count.
"Because I imagine they may soon want help, my good lord," replied the young knight.
"Madness!" cried the Lord of St. Paul; "no man could swim such a torrent as that."
"I do not know that, noble sir," answered Richard of Woodville; "we are great swimmers in my country, and accustomed to buffet with the waves. But there is a boat higher up. I will first try that, and if that sinks, swimming must serve me."