For a while it seemed as if De Rohan's words would gain the day, till the Countess, supported by Barbenoire, again harangued her knights, and the ecclesiastic withdrew discomfited.
Thereupon the French advanced to the grand assault, while the besieged caught up their arms and silently yet resolutely awaited their approach.
But ere the archers could begin their hail of arrows which was to open the attack, the ringing voice of the Countess was heard from the summit of the tower:—
"Voilà, le secours! Voilà le secours anglais! Courage, enfans; nous sommes sauvés!"
"Will they be in time?" asked Raymond anxiously, as he stood by his father on the shattered wall.
"If we can but make good the battlements for one hour all will be well. Canst see aught of the ships?"
"Not as yet."
"Then heaven forfend the Countess be not mistaken. Stand to it, Raymond, for here they come!"
All conversation was stopped by the on-coming foemen. The squire closed his visor, and crouching behind his shield, awaited the attack. Under cover of the archers the men-at-arms advanced. Though some fell before the darts of the besieged, the main body pressed steadily onward, till they reached the breach in the shattered masonry.
The impact of the two forces was terrific; men went down on both sides, and, as sword and lance were shattered, axes, mauls, and maces continued the deadly work. The air was rent with the clash of arms, the shouts of the combatants, and the groans of the dying; but the townsfolk held their own, and after an hour's desperate struggle the attacking party retired.