With that the girl disappeared from view, leaving Geoffrey staring up at the battlement where she had stood.
"Fair sir," quoth the man-at-arms who bore the white flag. "Hast thou taken notice of those nine steel caps showing above the wall?"
"Nay," replied the squire shortly, for, truth to tell, during the interview he had eyes only for the fair Aimée d'Aulx.
"They have not moved a hair's breadth these five minutes," continued the man. "Since 'tis impossible for a Frenchman to remain quiet, for curiosity must have otherwise consumed them, I am of opinion that those head-pieces are set up only to trick us."
"By the rood, Hubert, methinks thou shouldst be right in this matter," exclaimed the squire excitedly.
"And, moreover," went on the soldier imperturbably, "didst thou not mark how yon damsel was taken aback when thou told'st her of the rout of yesterday?"
"Now thou speakest of it I call it to mind," admitted Geoffrey. "What of it?"
"This, fair sir: 'tis certain that none of this knight's followers have gained the shelter of the castle, otherwise the news would have been no news. I'll warrant, could we but cross the moat, that ten stout men-at-arms could carry the castle by escalade."
"Thine advice is good, Hubert," said Geoffrey, as the twain turned and rode back to their comrades.
After a short council had been held, ten of the men-at-arms divested themselves of their armour, and armed only with their axes and daggers, ran boldly towards the moat.