The harsh, unmistakable rattle of the chains of the castle drawbridge could plainly be heard, followed in a few seconds by the hollow, distant beat of horses' hoofs upon the planking, as though a troop of horsemen was spurring vigorously across.
"Follow me," cried Edgar, breaking into a run, and at top speed the men sped down the track towards the place where a few hours before they had left the band commanded by the priest hard at work.
Rounding a bend they came in full sight of the spot, but before them the roadway stretched, to all appearances, as firm and unbroken as ever. Could their comrades have failed them? Not a soul was in sight until, in the distance, a strong body of men-at-arms, headed by two knights clad in full armour, appeared galloping rapidly towards them. At the sight of the loose body of armed peasantry in front of them the knights and their following sent up a savage cheer of exultation, and, setting spurs to their horses, thundered furiously down upon the others.
At the grim, heart-shaking spectacle, Edgar felt his men involuntarily check their speed.
"Rally, men, and charge the tyrants!" he cried loudly, and, echoing his words, his men recovered their nerve and pressed along after him.
Rapidly the two forces closed in upon one another until but a few yards of the roadway separated them. Sir Eustace, who, with De Maupas, headed the castle garrison, had even levelled his lance full at Edgar's breast, when all of a sudden the very ground seemed to open beneath his feet! There was a rending crash as a framework of branches, covered with straw and earth, concealing a pit dug in the roadway, gave beneath his weight and sent him crashing headlong into the chasm. De Maupas and many of the men-at-arms behind, unable to stop their furious advance, fell headlong after him until the yawning pit was choked with a mass of struggling men and horses.
"Charge home!" cried Edgar, and with a wild cheer he and his men sprang upon the struggling mass and towards the files spurring to their aid. Another and more desperate combat began. From both sides and the rear sprang the men of the priest's and Peter's bands, as they issued forth from their leafy screens and attacked the astounded garrison.
Edgar's first object was to keep the men-at-arms still in the saddle from rescuing the two knights struggling in the pit. Desperately he fought, but the men-at-arms as desperately charged forward, and with all their weight and impetus swept him and his men violently back. The two knights, clad in full armour, were little hurt by their heavy fall, and in a few minutes they were successfully extricated from the struggling mass and helped upon spare horses. Then with loud cries of encouragement to one another, the men-at-arms re-formed in a solid body and began to forge their way slowly and irresistibly back to the castle.
Time after time Edgar flung himself into their ranks, attended by such of his men as dared to follow, and strove to break up their formation and keep them from winning their way back to shelter. But though his vastly superior swordplay enabled him easily to vanquish individuals, a surge forward of several men each time flung him roughly backwards, and at last the survivors of the garrison reached the edge of the wood, and were able to gallop unchecked across the sward to the castle drawbridge. The bridge was still down, and the battered remnant filed sullenly and silently back into the castle courtyard. The gates crashed to behind them, and with many jolts and jars the drawbridge was drawn up, interposing the still waters of the moat between them and their exulting foes.
CHAPTER XVIII