"Where is De Brecy?" he exclaimed, looking down upon the group below. "I do not see him. Varlet, you have not shut him out?"
"No, no; I am here!" cried the voice of De Brecy, riding in from under the arch, while the portcullis clanged, and the draw-bridge creaked behind him.
"Pardi! De Brecy," cried the man from above, "you have brought us a heap of women. Men are what we want, for we have only provisions for a week, and we shall be closely pressed, I can tell you."
"Here are forty-seven horses," answered De Brecy, "which will feed the whole castle for a month, in case of need. But is there no means of passing through the town?"
"Impossible!" cried the other. "They are just now fighting in the castle street, to bring in safely the grain out of the corn-market."
Agnes then, for the first time, became fully aware of her situation, and that she was destined to be for some time the tenant of a small citadel, closely besieged, and but very ill provided to resist.
CHAPTER XLIV.
The power of the mind to accommodate itself to all things is curiously displayed in the zest and carelessness with which soldiers, in the busy time of war, enjoy all short intervals of repose. The whole morning had been passed in skirmishing in the streets of Bourges, in strengthening every defense of the castle, and in collecting whatever provisions could be found in the neighboring houses, so long as the smallness of the force in the town permitted parties to issue forth from the citadel. But in the course of the day, the troops of the Count of La Marche and of the Count of Clermont entered Bourges, and joined the Count of Richmond. A strong party was posted across the river opposite to the gate of the castle, another occupied the bridge, and the blockade of the citadel was complete. Weary, however, with the long march and a morning's skirmishing, the troops of the revolted lords did not press the siege during the rest of the day. The defenders of the citadel, too, had but little opportunity of annoying the enemy or serving themselves; and, from three o'clock till nightfall, nothing occurred but an occasional shot of a cannon or a culverine, directed at any group of the enemy who might appear in the castle street, or at the parties on the opposite side of the river. True, the citadel was surrounded on every side by a strong force; true, the siege was likely to commence on the following day with vigor and determination; but still a sort of tacit truce was established for the time; and could any one have seen the little party of superior officers seated together in the castle of Bourges that night at supper, they would have seemed but a gay assembly of thoughtless men met together on some occasion of merry-making. They laughed, they talked, and some of them drank deep; but none of them seemed to give one thought to their perilous situation, trusting confidently to the precautions they had taken for defense, and to the care and faith of those who had been left upon guard.
Jean Charost, though perhaps the gravest of the party, seemed for the time as indifferent to the fate of the citadel as the rest; and, seated next to Juvenel de Royans, conversed upon any subject on earth but the state of Bourges, dwelling upon former times and past-by occurrences, the days they had spent together in the household of the Duke of Orleans, their after meetings, and the fatal events of Monterreau.
"What a strange thing life is, De Brecy!" said his companion. "Here you and I meet, first as enemies, and are ready to cut each others throats; then as young friends and brothers-in-arms, ready to sacrifice our lives for one another; and then here we are, beleaguered in this fusty old château of Bourges, with Richmond, who never spares an enemy, and La Marche, who seldom spares a friend, ready to dig us out of our hole, as they would a badger on the side of a hill. I forgot to mention our short meeting at Monterreau, for, by my faith! I was too ill at that time even to do the honors of my quarters."