For the first time Raymond could take notice of the girl. Looking at her white face, he could see that she was a maiden of quality and unquestionable beauty. As she stood there, with flashing eyes and the reeking dagger in her hand, she seemed in the eyes of the young archer like one of the mythological heroines of whom he had read in the library of the Abbey. But with the sense of safety came the inevitable reaction. She dropped the knife, and, falling beside her mother, burst into tears.
Raymond, in spite of his inexperience, saw only too clearly that the elder lady was beyond pain and suffering.
"Come," he said gently. "We must needs go quickly. Thy mother is—" He was unable to finish the sentence, but the girl understood.
"I am ready," she said, in a far-away voice, "but whither shall we go?"
Pausing to throw a coverlet over the still form of the lady, Raymond gave a final glance at the bodies of his late adversaries; then, taking the girl by the hand, he drew her gently from the room.
The cool, fresh air revived his scattered wits considerably, so that he was able to take the necessary precautions to regain St. Barbara's Tower. Bidding the girl wait behind a thick shrubbery, Raymond looked cautiously out of the gate. The street seemed to be clear, while his comrades were alert and waiting his return.
Calling the girl, he led her quickly across the street; the end of a rope was thrown down, and hastily the lad looped it round her supple form. Then at a signal the little garrison pulled up the rope, and its precious burden was safe within the shelter of St. Barbara's Tower!
"Haste thee, boy!" shouted old Dicky Wyatt, the grizzled man-at-arms. "The French be upon thee!"
There was not a moment to be lost. The lad seized the end of the rope as it descended, and hanging on like a jackanapes, was soon dangling in the air. A party of the enemy were running down the street, and already a few quarrels and arrows were whistling past his ears or splintering themselves against the stonework of the tower. Then a well-directed flight of cloth-yard shafts held the enemy in check, and aided by willing hands, Raymond was helped over the parapet.
"A plucky deed," growled Wyatt, "but thou hast sold us, my lad. See, they have gone to bring reinforcements to carry the tower by escalade!"