"How now, herald?" demanded the Lord of Gaucourt as the envoy, hot and breathless, gained the summit of the tower.
"Fair sir, the English king is not to be bent from his purpose. He bids me say that, according to the usages of war, he will hang our man. Moreover, if this squire dies on the gallows, thy life and that of a score of the bravest knights and men of quality of this town will answer for it—'not by the sword, but by a hempen cord, be the blood of a Gaucourt ever so blue.' Those were the words of the King of England."
At the threat of the rope the French knight's cheeks blanched, for, brave though he was, he recoiled at the thought of dying the death of a churl. Then recovering himself, he exclaimed—
"Let not the King of England think to turn me from my purpose. Watch yon gallows carefully; if our spy is thrown from the ladder, then up with yon squire. I also will remain here to see to the ordering o' it."
Meanwhile the stormers of the English army had advanced to within an arrow's flight of the walls. Like a gigantic spring the attackers clustered together in a vast coil, ready to unwind and thrust itself against the battlements of Harfleur; yet, though the truce was at an end, the reopening of the hostilities seemed suspended till the double tragedy was enacted.
Bravely Geoffrey braced himself to undergo the final ordeal. Come the worst, he was determined to let his enemies see how a true English squire would die, cheered by the desperate yet doubtless unavailing efforts of his own countrymen to effect his rescue.
Slowly the sun sank in the west; longer grew the shadow of the lofty towers, till it was lost in the distance. Then as the blood-red orb disappeared beneath the horizon the gallows on the plain was not without its burden.
The shout of execration that rose from the Frenchmen on the walls was drowned by the sullen roar of rage and fury from the besiegers as the men-at-arms seized the English squire and raised him on their shoulders.
The fatal noose was already around his neck when the Lord of Gaucourt spoke.
"Cast the squire loose," ordered he. "By St. Denis, I am not a butcher. The King of England spoke truly when he said that the spy had placed himself beyond the pale, but this prisoner hath not merited such a death. Take him to the quarters in the citadel. Ho, there! Bid our men stand fast for the honour of France, for our enemies are upon us!"