“Scarce half a league from the city walls,
Lo! swooping down like a fiery blast—
Armed to the teeth, and hot with wrath—
Rank after rank spurring quickly past—
The avengers came of Jacques Enguerrande,
And I felt that his child was safe at last!
“She knew their leader—she shrieked his name—
He halted—I told you what garb I wore,
They thought me a rebel; the little one
With oaths and blows from my arms they tore,