Then the furniture was replaced against the door, and the men sank breathless and panic-stricken on the floor. There were six in all, so that the little garrison now amounted to eight men, whereof three had had experience in warfare.
"Get ye up!" ordered Redward roughly. "Think ye that I opened my doors to allow a set of cowardly curs to lie about my hearth? Up with ye!"
Stung by the rebuke, the men armed themselves with bow and sword, gripping their weapons with newborn resolve.
"Ah, by Our Lady, 'tis well ye look on the right side o' things. But if we are to see the light of another day we must stand firm," said the archer grimly. "And," he added, "let no man loose bow till I give the word, and may God and St. George look favourably upon us this night!"
"Ay, gossip!" replied Walter Bevis, a veteran of Falkirk. "An' if we cannot live we can at least die like Englishmen! But, who comes?"
Another dark figure came flying up the hill, hotly pursued by half a score of Frenchmen.
"'Tis Will Lightfoot, of Hook!" replied one of the defenders. "Run, Will, run!"
"Now loose!" cried Redward, and immediately five arrows flew on their deadly errand. It was the first time that Raymond had seen a shaft sped in anger, and the sight thrilled him strangely. The pursuers, standing out strongly against the glare, made easy marks; four of them fell face forwards on the ground, writhing in mortal agony; the fifth, struck in the right fore-arm, dropped his sword and yelled lustily. The others, amazed at meeting with any attempt at organised resistance, turned and fled towards the village, two more falling as the result of a second flight of the deadly arrows.
Will Lightfoot, holding a dagger in his left hand and a broken sword in his right, came up to the improvised fortress with an easy stride, for his name well suited him amid the encouraging shouts of his friends.
"Wait while I unbar the door," called Redward to the fugitive, at the same time directing the others to assist him in removing the barricade.