At length one of the sappers called out that he had struck stone. Making his way to the head of the tunnel, Geoffrey saw by the aid of a torch that the man had spoken truly. The lowermost layer of masonry of the tower lay exposed three feet from the floor of the tunnel.
All that now remained to be done was to undermine the base and place explosives in position.
"Go and carry word to Sir John," ordered Geoffrey, addressing a man-at-arms. "Perchance he may wish to examine the stone-work ere the powder is brought hither."
The soldier hastened on his errand, while the men continued to attack the hard soil with their spades. They had succeeded in their efforts to strike the base of the tower, and one and all were delighted with their success.
Just as Geoffrey was on the point of bidding the toilers desist the floor of the tunnel suddenly collapsed, leaving a gaping hole, through which a swarm of armed men poured with shouts of triumph.
Ere the English men-at-arms could draw their swords the foemen were upon them, striking down the unarmed sappers right and left. In the confusion most of the torches were extinguished, and in the almost total darkness friend gripped friend by the throat, the cries of the wounded adding to the uproar.
With cries of "A Gaucourt!" "St Denis à mon aide!" the French knights pressed home the attack, while the English men-at-arms, with cries of "St. George for England!" strove to hold their own against the overwhelming numbers. More torches were brought to illuminate the ghastly scene, and by their light men fought and died like wild beasts.
Unmindful of his unprotected head, Geoffrey had drawn his sword at the first alarm, and had contrived to force his way to the front. Skill and coolness were thrown to the winds, and striking madly at the forest of opposing spears and swords, the squire strove to keep the foe at bay.
Soon his fury began to tell on him; his sword-arm was becoming nerveless under the strain, while his shoulder was bleeding profusely from a thrust betwixt the joints of his armour.
Still he fought on, till he heard the glad sounds of the succouring forces that the Constable of Portchester was bringing up with all dispatch to the rescue. Just then a mortally wounded man-at-arms gripped the lad's ankle. Simultaneously a powerful Norman flung himself upon the enfeebled and embarrassed squire, and losing his balance, Geoffrey fell.