Herbert poised the great axe, and the solid wood sprang in with the blow, but the bolts were strong.
"Give it me!" and Richard snatched the axe like a toy. Three times the door gave back under the shattering shock; and with the fourth it reeled inward. From the battlement above, beams and stones snowed down upon him. What recked Longsword? He knew they would not hurt, and cared not if they should. Where in his mind was Mary Kurkuas when he felt the hot blood streaming on his torn forehead, and the fury of demons in his heart!
"God is with us!" a third time he called it. Before, opened the dark, narrow, vaulted way to the great hall. There were flashing eyes and tossing blades in the passage. What were these at such an hour! The Valmonters had lived as devils, as devils they fought; but what could they do, save die? Three minutes of hard cutting hand to hand, and the way was cleared. Longsword and his men—that were left—stood in the great hall. The cups still lay on the long tables, scraps of food on the trenchers; for the evening's carousal had not been cleared away. For a moment there was darkness, then a cresset on the wall flashed up, another and another, and all was light.
"Fire! Death! Sack!" the St. Julien men were shouting, and who should say them nay?
There were women and little children cowering on the settles, young girls ran screaming up the swaying ladders to the lofts above, and after them the raging victors. Richard's voice was a trumpet calling above the stormy chaos.
"Up to the parapet, Nasr! Let not a man escape! Search the dungeons, Herbert, lest any hide!"
"Kill! kill!" threescore throats were echoing.
But Richard had caught an old woman by the arm, and dragged her from her knees.
"They say Raoul had a young brother. Where is he? Speak, if you wish to live." His sword was swinging, very red.
"Pity, lord," moaned the shivering creature. "Spare Gilbert. He is harmless as a dove!"