by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER IV -- A FATAL ACCIDENT
As soon as the sun had set, the defenders gathered on the walls. Fires hadalready been lighted there and cauldrons of water and pitch suspended overthem, and sacks of quicklime placed in readiness to be emptied; greatpiles of stone were placed at short intervals.
"As long as they attack at only one or two places," Sir Eustace said tohis wife, "I am quite confident that we shall repulse them. If they attackat a dozen they may succeed, as we should only have a couple of archersand six or seven men-at-arms at each point, besides a score or so of thevassals. I have no doubt that these will fight stoutly, for the sight oftheir burning homes has roused them, and each man is longing to get a blowat those who have wrought them so much damage. Still, thirty men are but asmall party to beat back an assault by hundreds. However, if they carrythe outside wall they will have the second to deal with, and there weshall stand much thicker together, and they cannot attack from manypoints, while if we are driven into the keep, we shall be stronger still.Have you seen that the women and children are ready to retire into thekeep as soon as the assault begins?"
"I have been round myself and given orders," Dame Margaret said. "I havetold them that the inner gate will be closed as soon as fighting begins,and that those who do not come in before that must remain outside, or elsemount to the walls and cross the bridges, for that on no account will thegates be opened again."
"That is well, Margaret. I am now about to station two men-at-arms on theinner wall at the end of each of the three bridges, so that they may beready on the instant to turn the catches and let the bridges fall behindour men as they rush across. The tenants have already driven as many moreof their best horses and cattle into the inner court as can find standingroom, so that their loss may be as small as possible. If the outer wall iscarried, I have no great fear that the second wall will be taken; theplunderers who form the mass of Sir Clugnet's force will have had enoughand more than enough of fighting by the time that they capture the outerone. Whatever happens, do not show yourself on the walls to-night, and seethat the children do not leave their beds; you can do naught, and will seebut little in the dark. To-morrow morning, wife, I will leave you free togo among the soldiers and give them encouragement as may be needed, butfor to-night, I pray you stir not out. I will send Henry from time to timeto let you know how matters go."
Rapidly the men gathered on the walls; each had had his post assigned tohim, and when Sir Eustace made a tour of inspection he was glad to see howconfidently each man bore himself, and how well prepared to give the enemya warm reception. As soon as it became dark, the outwork on the other sideof the moat was abandoned, the defenders called into the castle, and thedrawbridge raised, for it was evident to Sir Eustace that although itmight be maintained in daylight, by the aid of the archers on the wall, itcould not resist an attack by overwhelming numbers when deprived of thatassistance. Sir Eustace, after inspecting the men's arms, ordered allthose on the walls, with the exception of a few who were to remain onwatch, to sit down with their backs against the battlement, and tomaintain an absolute silence.
"It is by sound rather than sight that we shall be able to judge of theirmovements," he said. "All sitting down may sleep, if it so pleases them,till they are roused."
The sentries were ten in number, and were all taken from among thearchers. Most of these men had been accustomed to the chase, were skilledin woodcraft, and accustomed to listen to the slightest noises that mighttell of the movement of a stag and enable them to judge his position. SirEustace, for the present, posted himself in his old position over thegate. Jean Bouvard and Guy were with him, while Long Tom moved round andround the walls to gather news from his sentries. Sometimes Guyaccompanied him.
"They are moving," Tom the archer said as he stood listening intently onthe wall at the rear of the castle. "It is an hour past sundown, and aboutthe time the knaves will be mustering if they intend to make a regularattack on us. If it had been only an escalade there would have been nosound until nearly morning. I thought I heard them on the other side, butI am sure of it now."
"I can hear singing up at their camp," Guy said, "but I don't hearanything else."
"They are keeping that up to deceive us, I expect. But besides the singingthere is a sort of rustle. I don't think that they are coming this way atpresent, or we should hear it plainer. It seems to me that it is spreadingall round."
"I will go back and tell Sir Eustace what you think, Tom."
Guy hurried back to the other side of the castle.
"Long Tom thinks, Sir Eustace, that he can hear a stir all round."
"We have noticed it too--at least, all round this side. Tell him not tocall the men to their feet until the enemy approaches more closely. Ibelieve that it is the march of a large number of men, and that they areprobably moving to the positions assigned to them, but it may be anotherhour or two before they close in."
In a short time the sound became more distinct; from a rustle it rose to adeep confused murmur, then an occasional clink as of arms striking armourbecame audible. Most of the men on the walls were now on their feet gazinginto the darkness. Presently the sound ceased, first on one side and thenon another.
"I fancy they are all at their stations now, Jean Bouvard; we shall soonhear more of them. Do not let your archers shoot, Tom, until they can makethem out very distinctly. We may be sure that they will come up with theirmantlets, and it would be a waste of arrows to loose at them until theyare close to the moat; but of course if separate figures can bedistinguished your men will draw on them."
In a quarter of an hour messengers came from various points on the wallsaying that there was something moving within sight, and to those at thepost over the gate a dark confused mass like a shadow seemed to be slowlycoming down towards their outwork.
"Touch off the guns, Jean," Sir Eustace said; "we shall get no furtherchance of catching them in a body."
The captain stooped, lit two touchfires at the lantern standing inreadiness, gave one to a man-at-arms, and went with the other to a cannon.Both the guns had been filled to the muzzle with bits of iron and nails,and had been laid to bear on the slope beyond the outwork. They were firedalmost simultaneously, and the sound was followed by yells of pain anddismay. The besiegers, seeing that there was nothing further to gain byconcealment, burst into a shout that ran all round the castle, and wereanswered by one of defiance from the walls. The sound was succeeded byloud orders from the leaders of the various assaulting parties, and theobjects before but dimly seen, now approached the walls rapidly. JeanBouvard hurried away to superintend the defence at other parts.
"You may as well go the other way, Guy, and let me know from time to timehow things are getting on. Henry, run down to your mother and tell herthat the enemy are moving up to the moat, and that it will be some timebefore there is any hard fighting; then come back here again."
It was easier to see from the side walls than it had been in front, for infront there was a glow in the sky from the number of fires burning beyondthe crest of the slope, and Guy was able to make out what seemed to him awall extending some fifteen yards, near the edge of the moat. The archersand crossbow-men gathered opposite to it had just begun to shoot. Behindthis wall there were other dark masses irregularly placed, and extendingback as far as he could see. An occasional cry told that the arrows weredoing execution upon the unseen assailants behind the mantlets, and soonthe blows of cross-bow bolts against the wall and the sharp tap of arrowstold that the enemy had also betaken themselves to their arms. A number ofgiant torches had been prepared, consisting of sheafs of straw soaked withpitch, and one of these was now lighted and elevated on a pole somefifteen feet above the battlement. Its light was sufficient to enable thescene beyond to be clearly made out. A row of mantlets some eight feethigh had been placed by the moat, and others of the same height, and sevenor eight feet long, elevated at short intervals behind these, were soplaced as to afford shelter to the men coming down to the mantlets infront. They sto
od in two lines; they were some twenty feet apart, butthose in one line alternated with those in the other. Guy soon saw theobject of this arrangement. Men were darting to and fro across theinterval some six feet wide between the two lines. Thus they had but tenfeet to run from the shelter on one side to that on the other, and exposedthemselves but for an instant to the aim of the archers. Some of the mencarried great bundles of faggots, others had sacks on their shoulders.
"Do not heed the mantlets in front," said Dickon, who was in command ofthe six archers near Guy, "but pick off those fellows as they come down.Shoot in turn; it is no use wasting two arrows on one man. Don't looseyour shaft until a man is within three mantlets from the end; then if onemisses, the next can take him when he runs across next time. That isright, Hal," he broke off, as an arrow sped and a man with a sack on hisshoulder rolled over. "Now, lads, we ought not to miss them by thislight."
Eleven men fell, out of the next twelve who attempted to carry theirburdens down. Guy went back to Sir Eustace with the news of the manner inwhich the attack was being carried on, and of the effect of the archers'defence.
"I have just heard the same from the other side; there is one attack oneach side and two behind; Jean Bouvard has posted himself there. I amgoing round myself now; I do not think there will be any attack made infront. I have sent the archers here to the rear, where they will be moreuseful; the fellows in the outwork across there have enough to do toshelter themselves."
This Guy could well understand, for although the guns could not bedepressed sufficiently to fire down into the _tete du pont_, the mangonelswere hurling stones into it, and the men-at-arms shooting cross-bowquarrels whenever a man showed himself. The rear of the outwork was openand afforded no shelter to those who had taken possession of it, andalready the greater portion had retired to the other side of the smallmoat surrounding it, where they lay sheltered by the outwork itself. Itwas not long before the assailants at the other points, finding that theplan they had formed was defeated by the skill of the archers, poured downin a mass between the two lines of mantlets, each man carrying his burdenbefore him, thus sheltering him to a great extent. Against this method ofattack the archers could do little, and now confined themselves toshooting at the men who, having thrown down the fascines or sacks by theedge of the moat, stood for a moment and hesitated before running back tothe shelter of the mantlets, and not one in three got off scot-free. Guyon going round the wall found the same state of things at each of theother three points of assault. Numbers of the enemy were falling, butgreat piles of materials were accumulating at the edge of the moat. Aftera time a number of knights and men-at-arms, fully protected by armour,came down and began to hurl the sacks and bags into the moat, theiroperations being covered as much as possible by a storm of missiles shotthrough holes in the mantlets. In a short time Sir Eustace ordered thearchers to desist shooting, for they were obliged, in order to aim atthose so much below them, to expose a considerable portion of theirbodies, and three were killed by the enemy's missiles.
"We can't prevent them from filling up the moat," he said, "and it is butthrowing away life to try to do so."
The archers were accordingly placed in the projecting turrets, where,without being themselves exposed, they could shoot through the loopholesat any point on the face of the walls. It was not long before the moat wasbridged at all four points of attack. Ladders were then brought down. Thisthe assailants were able to accomplish without loss, as, instead ofcarrying them, they were pushed backwards and forwards by men stationedbehind the mantlets, and were so zigzagged down to the moat without thedefenders being able to offer any opposition. Then rushes were made byparties of knights, the ladders were placed, and the fight began inearnest.
In the great court-yard the leader of the English men-at-arms was placedwith twelve of his men as a reserve. They were to be summoned by one, two,three, or four blasts of a horn to the point at which their services weremost required. The assaults were obstinate, but the walls were as stoutlydefended. Sometimes the ladders were hurled back by poles with an ironfork at the end; buckets of boiling water and tar were poured over on tothe assailants as they clambered up, and lime cast over on those waitingto take their turns to ascend; while with spear, axe, and mace the men-at-arms and tenants met the assailants as they endeavoured to get a footingon the wall.
Guy had placed himself with the party to which he had first gone, and,taking a pike from a fallen man, was fighting stoutly. The archers fromtheir turrets kept up a constant flight of arrows on the crowd below. Onlyonce was the horn sounded for the aid of the reserve. Sir Eustace hadtaken the command at the rear, while Jean Bouvard headed the defence onthe side opposite to that at which Guy was fighting. The defenders underSir Eustace had the hardest work to hold their own, being assaulted at twopoints. This was evidently the main place of attack, for here Sir Clugnethimself and several of his knights led the assault, and at one timesucceeded in gaining a footing on the wall at one point, while Sir Eustacewas at the other. Then the knight blew his horn, and at the same timecalled the archers from the turret nearest to him, while some of the otherparty on the wall rushed to aid him of their own accord and, pressingthrough the tenants, opposed themselves to the knights and men-at-arms whohad obtained a footing on the wall.
Their strength, and the power with which they wielded their heavy axes, soheld the assailants in check that they could not gain space sufficient forothers to join them, and when the reserve ran up, so fierce an attack wasmade upon the knights that several were beaten down and the rest forced tospring over the wall at the risk of life and limb. Sir Clugnet himself wasthe last to do this, and was carried away insensible. Two or three of hiscompanions were killed by the fall, but the rest, leaping far enough outto alight beyond the solid ground at the foot of the walls, had their fallbroken by the yielding mass of materials by which they had crossed themoat. A loud shout of triumph rose from the defenders, and was re-echoedby shouts from the other walls. As soon as the news of the repulse at therear reached the other parties, and that Sir Clugnet was badly hurt, whileseveral of the knights were killed, the assault ceased at once, and theOrleanists withdrew, followed by derisive cries from the defenders.
"Thanks be to the saints that it is all over," Sir Eustace said, as heopened his vizor; "it was a close thing here, and for a time I feared thatthe outer wall was lost. However, I think that there is an end of it now,and by the morning we shall find that they have moved off. They must havesuffered very heavily; certainly three or four hundred must have fallen,for we must admit that they fought stoutly. You have all done well, myfriends, and I thank you heartily. Now, the first thing is to fetch thewounded down to the hall prepared for them. Father Gregory has all inreadiness for them there. Guy, go round and find who have fallen, and seethem carried reverently down to the court-yard, send me a list of theirnames, and place two men-at-arms at each point where the assault tookplace. Tom, do you similarly dispose eight of your archers so that shouldthey send a spy up to see if we sleep, a message can be sent back in theshape of a cloth-yard shaft. Bid all the tenants and retainers leave thewall; a horn will recall them should there be need. I will myself visitthem shortly, and thank them for their stout defence. I will send round acup of spiced wine to each man on the wall as soon as it can be prepared,to that all may slake their thirst after their efforts."
Sir Eustace then made his way down from the wall to his Apartments, whereDame Margaret was awaiting him. She hurried to meet him.
"Wait, wife, till I have removed my helmet, and even then you must becareful how you embrace me, for methinks there is more than one blood-stain on my armour, though happily not of mine own. All has gone well,love, and methinks that we shall hear no more of them; but they foughtmore stoutly than I had given them credit for, seeing that they were but amixed rabble, with a small proportion of real men-at-arms among them. Isuppose Henry brought you my message to close the inner gates, as they hadgained a footing on the walls."
"No, I received no message
since the one he brought me half an hour ago,saying that all was going well, and I thought that he was with you. Wherecan he be, Eustace?" she asked anxiously.
"I know not indeed, Margaret, but will search at once. While I do so willyou go to the hall that you have prepared for the wounded, and give whataid you can there? Do not fear for the boy; he turned and ran off when Ispoke to him, and as his head reaches not to the top of the battlements noharm can have befallen him, though in truth I cannot think what can havedelayed him."
He called to two or three of the men below to take torches, and toaccompany him at once, and sent others to the sheds to ask if he had beenseen there, then went up to the top of the inner wall and crossed thebridge at the back.
"SIR EUSTACE GAVE A LOUD CRY, FOR LYING AT THE BOTTOM OFTHE STAIR WAS THE FORM OF HIS SON."]
"Have any of you seen aught of my son Henry?" he asked the men there.
"No, my lord," one said in reply. "I marked him by our side just beforethe French got a footing at the other end of the wall, but I saw him notafterwards."
"He ran towards the steps at the corner there," Sir Eustace said, "with amessage from me that the inner doors were to be closed. Come along, men,"he said to those with torches, and going to the corner of the walldescended the steps, which were steep and narrow. He took a torch from oneof the men and held it over his head. As he neared the bottom he gave alow cry and ran down the last few steps, where, lying at the bottom, wasthe form of his son. He was stretched at full length, and there was aterrible gash on his forehead. The knight knelt beside him and raised hishead, from which the steel cap had fallen; there was a deep stain of bloodon the pavement beneath. He placed his hand on the boy's heart and his earto his lips, and the men with the torches stood silently round. It was buttoo evident what had happened. In his haste to carry the message Henry'sfoot had slipped, and he had fallen headforemost down the steep steps, hishead coming in contact with the edge of one of them. Without a word SirEustace raised the boy gently in his arms. His face was sufficient to tellthe men the news; their young lord was dead.
Sir Eustace carried him through the inner gate and up to the boy's ownroom, and laid him down on his bed, then silently he went out again andcrossed the court to the keep. Dame Margaret was seeing to the woundedbeing laid on the straw in the lower room, and did not notice him until hetouched her. She turned sharply round, his face was sufficient to tell herthe truth. She gave a low cry and stepped back a pace, and he movedforwards and drew her to him.
"Love," he said tenderly, "God has taken him. He was fitter for heaventhan any of us; he was too gentle for this rough world of ours. We shallmourn for him, but with him it is well."
Dame Margaret laid her head on his shoulder, and burst into a passion oftears. Sir Eustace let her weep for a time, then he whispered:
"You must be brave, my love. There will be other mourners here for theirdear ones who have died fighting for us; they will need your comfort. AVilleroy could not die better than doing his duty. It was not by man'shand that he fell, but God took him. His foot slipped in running down thestair from the wall, and he must assuredly have died without a pang. Takethe priest with you; I will see to the wounded here. Father Gregory," hewent on, raising his voice, "Dame Margaret has more need of you at thepresent moment than have these brave fellows. A grievous misfortune hasbefallen us. My son is dead; he fell while doing his duty. Do you take herto his room; I give her to your charge for the present. I have my work todo, and will see that your patients are well cared for."
There was a murmur of surprise and regret from the wounded and those whohad brought them in. The poor lad had been a general favourite in thecastle for his gentle and pleasant ways with all, though many a time therough soldiers had said among themselves, "'Tis a pity that he was not agirl, and the Lady Agnes a boy. He is more fit for a priest than for abaron in times like these, for assuredly he will never grow into a stoutman-at-arms like his father." That a soldier should have been killed insuch a fight was to be expected, but that a gentle boy like this shouldhave fallen seemed strange and unnatural, and all sorrowed for him as wellas for their lord and lady, and the men forgot for a time the smart oftheir wounds in their regret at his untimely death.
Sir Eustace went about his work quietly and earnestly, bound up thesoldiers' wounds, and saw as far as might be to their comfort. Theirnumber was not large, as it was only in the fight on the wall that aughtsave their heads had been exposed, and those struck by cross-bow bolts hadfor the most part fallen as they stood. The eight men brought in hadwithout exception received wounds from the swords of the French knights,and though some of the gashes were broad and deep, none of them werelikely to prove fatal. Just as the knight had finished, Guy entered. Hehad heard the news, which had spread like wildfire through the castle. Thelad's eyes were red, for he had been greatly attached to Henry, whoseconstant companion he had been whenever the family had been at theirEnglish home.
"It is a strange fate, lad," Sir Eustace said, laying his hand upon Guy'sshoulder. "You who have exposed yourself freely--for I marked you in thefight--have come through scatheless, while Henry, whom I thought to keepout of danger, has fallen. And what is your news?"
"There have been seventeen killed, my lord, besides Jean Bouvard, who wasstruck in the face by one of the last crossbow bolts shot before they drewoff."
"This is bad news indeed. I wondered why he came not to me as soon as wehad beaten them off, but I thought not of this. He was a good andtrustworthy fellow, and I shall miss him sorely. Seventeen, say you? It istoo many; and yet there might have been more. Who are they?"
"Four of our archers, Sir Eustace, one of our English men-at-arms, and sixof your French men-at-arms. These were all killed by cross-bow bolts andarrows, Two of your tenants, Pierre Leroix and Jules Beaune, and four oftheir men fell on the wall when the French gained a footing there; threewere, I hear, unmarried men, the other has left a wife and threechildren."
"They shall be my care," the knight said. "The wives of Leroix and Beauneshall hold their farms free of dues until their eldest sons come of age.Does all seem quiet without?"
"All is quiet, my lord; but as I left the wall but now a knight with awhite flag and four torch-bearers was coming down the slope towards theoutwork."
"I will go there myself," Sir Eustace said; "'tis likely they do but cometo ask for leave to carry off the dead and wounded, which we will gladlylet them do, for it will save us much trouble to-morrow."
It was as the knight had supposed, and he at once gave the permissionasked for, and in a short time a great number of men with torches camedown the slope and for the next two hours were occupied in carrying offtheir dead and wounded comrades. A close watch was maintained all night,though there was small fear of a renewal of the attack. At daybreak therear-guard of the enemy could be seen retiring, and a party of men-at-arms, under Sir Eustace himself, on going out to reconnoitre, found thatnone had remained behind. A mound marked the place where their dead hadbeen buried in one great grave. Many of the mantlets had been removed, andthey doubted not that these had been used as litters for the conveyance ofthe wounded. They afterwards heard that some four hundred and fifty menhad been killed, and that over a hundred, too sorely wounded to be able towalk, had been carried away.
In the afternoon Henry was buried beneath the chapel in the castle, whilethe men-at-arms and others were laid in the inner court-yard. Havinglearned that the Orleanists, greatly disheartened at their heavy repulse,had marched away to the south, the gates of the castle were opened. Asmall number of the garrison were retained in the castle, and the restwere sent out to aid the tenants in felling trees and getting up temporaryshelters near their former homes until these could be rebuilt as before.For the time their wives and families were to remain in the castle.
All fear of another attack by the Orleanists speedily passed away. Artoiswas, upon the whole, strongly Burgundian, and an army marching fromFlanders speedily brought the whole province over to that side. Nothingwas done toward
s commencing the work of rebuilding the farmhouses, for itwas evident that the castle might at any moment be again beleaguered.
Two months passed quietly. Sir Eustace busied himself in seeing that thetenants were comfortably re-established in their temporary homes. TheBurgundians had again obtained several advantages, and as Sir Clugnet wasknown to have marched away with his following to the assistance of theOrleanists, who had of late fared badly, there was no fear of any freshattack being made upon the castle. One day a messenger rode in from theGovernor of Calais, who was personally known to Sir Eustace. The letterthat he carried was an important one. After the usual greeting it read:--
_For the love I bear you, Sir Eustace, I write to let you know thatthere is a change in affairs. It seems that the Duke of Burgundy has butbeen playing with our King Henry, and that the offer of a marriage wasmade only in order to obtain assistance and the countenance of the king.Being now, as it would seem, powerful enough to hold his own against hisenemies without such aid, the matter has fallen through. I have received aroyal order, which has also been sent to the governors of other Englishtowns, and it has been proclaimed everywhere by sound of trumpets, thatnone of Henry's subjects of whatever rank should in any way interferebetween the two factions in France, nor go into France to serve either ofthem by arms or otherwise under pain of death and confiscation of fortune.But I would tell you for your private ear, that I have news that our kingis in correspondence with the Dukes of Berri, Orleans, and Bourbon, andthat it is like that he will shortly declare for that party, beinggrievously offended at the treatment that he has received at the hands ofthe Duke of Burgundy after having given him loyal help and assistancewhich had, in no slight degree, assisted him in making good his causeagainst his enemies._
In a short time, indeed, the English from Calais, and from other placesheld by them in France, began to make sorties and to carry off muchplunder from the country round, and especially took by storm the Castle ofBanelinghen near Ardres, notwithstanding the truce that prevailed. Theintentions of the King of England were made still more manifest by hiswriting a letter to the Flemish towns, saying that, having heard that theDuke of Burgundy was gathering an army of Flemings to march into Aquitaineto wage war upon and destroy his subjects, and particularly his very dearand well-beloved cousins the Dukes of Berri, Orleans, and Bourbon, and theCounts of Alencon and Armagnac, and the Lord d'Albreth, he thereforebegged them to inform him whether they were willing to conform to thetruce concluded between them and England without in any way assistingtheir lord in his wicked purpose.
The Flemish towns replied that they desired in no way to infringe thetruce between the two countries, but that they would serve and assist theKing of France, their sovereign lord, and their Count the Duke ofBurgundy, as heretofore, to the utmost of their power.
In a short time, indeed, it became known that a solemn treaty had beenconcluded between the King of England and the Orleanist nobles, theyengaging to aid him to recover Guienne and the parts of Aquitaine he hadlost, while he promised to put an army in the field to assist them.
The position of Sir Eustace was now very difficult. It was uncertain whenthe English would move, and it was likely enough that if an army set sailit would land in Guienne, and that Calais would be able to render noassistance, so that he would be exposed to the attacks of the Burgundians.Nor was his position improved when he learned that on the 15th of July thetwo French factions, urged by the Count of Savoy, the Grand Master ofRhodes, and many others, had agreed to terms of peace between them, andthat the Orleanists had formally renounced the English alliance.
At the meeting of the leaders of the party, the Duke of Aquitaine, theking's son, presided. For a time all the differences were patched up. Thenews, however, came too late to arrest the embarkation of the English.Eight thousand men landed at La Hogue, under the Duke of Clarence, overrana wide extent of country, being reinforced by 800 Gascons, who had,according to the agreement with the Orleanists, been raised to join them.They advanced towards Paris, declaring, however, that they would retire ifthe Duke of Berri and his party kept their engagement with them, and paidthem the two hundred thousand crowns he had agreed to do. The Duke hadnot, however, the means to pay this amount, and the English thereforecontinued to ravage the country, while a large force from Calais, underthe Earl of Warwick, captured the town of Saumer-au-Bois and the Castle ofRuissault. This, however, was scarcely an invasion, and Sir Eustace, beingdoubtful whether Henry meditated operations upon a large scale now that hehad no longer allies in France, took no part in the matter, but remainedquietly in his castle.
Towards the end of March, 1413, a royal herald appeared before the gate.He was at once admitted, and was received with all honour in the greathall by Sir Eustace.
"Sir Eustace de Villeroy." he said, "I come to you in the name of the Kingof France, your lord and suzerain. He bids me to say that he has heardwith satisfaction that you refused entry to your castle to those whodemanded it altogether without authority from him; but that, seeing theimportance of the castle in case of trouble with England, and that you area vassal of England for estates in that country, he deems it necessarythat its safety should be assured, and therefore calls upon you to send,in proof of your loyalty to and affection for him, your wife and childrento Paris, where they shall be cared for in all honour and as becomes theircondition; or to receive a garrison of royal troops of such strength as todefend it from any fresh assault that may be made upon it, either on thepart of those who before attacked it, or of England. He charges you onyour fealty to accept one or other of these conditions, or to be deemed afalse vassal, which he cannot believe you are, knowing you to be a braveand worthy knight. Here is a document with the king's signature and sealto the effect which I have delivered to you."
"His Majesty's demands come upon me as a surprise," the knight saidgravely, "and I pray you to abide with me till to-morrow, by which time Ishall have had leisure to consider the alternative and be ready to giveyou answer."
"Your request is a reasonable one, Sir Eustace," the herald replied, "andI will await the answer for twenty-four hours."
The herald was then conducted to the guest-chamber, and Sir Eustace wentout into the court-yard and for some time busied himself with the usualaffairs of his estate and talked to the tenants as to their plans; then hewent up on to the wall and there paced moodily backwards and forwardsthinking over the summons that he had received. He knew that Margaret hadbeen in the gallery in the hall and had heard the message the herald haddelivered, and he wished to think it well over before seeing her. Hisposition was, he felt, a perilous one. The last treaty of peace betweenFrance and England had drawn the frontier line more straitly in. AfterCressy was fought, but a few miles away, Villeroy had stood within theEnglish line as far as it now stood without it. That Henry, who althoughnow old and averse to war, must yet ere long again renew the war that hadso long languished he had little doubt; but he had no hope of succour atpresent, and felt that though able to withstand any sudden attack likethat he had recently repulsed, he could not hope to make a successfuldefence against a great force provided with battering machines.
The message from the king was indeed but a message from Burgundy, but ifBurgundy was all-powerful just at present it had the same effect as if itwere the king and not he who had sent the summons. He could see no way oftemporizing save that Margaret and the children should go as hostages, andthe idea of this was wholly repugnant to him. Were he to admit a Frenchgarrison the castle would be virtually lost to him; for once powerless, hecould easily be set aside in favour of one of Burgundy's followers. Theonly alternative then seemed to be that he should altogether forsake thecastle and estate so long held by his ancestors, and retire to England,until maybe some day Henry might again place him in possession of it. Heregretted now that he had not told Margaret that she had best keep herchamber, for she then would have known nothing of the alternative that sheshould go as a hostage--an alternative, he foresaw, that she was likely tofavour, as by so doing the
necessity for making an absolute decision andchoosing between France and England would be postponed. At length, stillundecided in his mind, he descended from the wall and went up to hiswife's apartments.