The afternoon drew on toward evening and still these two lived. Of allthe hundreds of missiles which were shot or hurled at them, although afew struck, not one of them had pierced their armour so as to do themhurt. The walls and battlements or some good Fate had protected them.Thrice had the French come on, and thrice they had retreated beforethose arrows that could not miss, and as yet bridge and doors were safe.
"Look," said Dick as he set down a cup of wine that he had drained,for his thirst was raging, "they send an embassy," and he pointed toa priest, the same mad-eyed fellow who preached in the square when thenotary Basil led them into a trap, and to a man with him who bore awhite cloth upon a lance. "Shall I shoot them?"
"Nay," answered Hugh; "why kill crazed folk who think that they serveGod in their own fashion? We will hear what they have to say."
Presently the pair stood within speaking distance, and the priest calledout:
"Hearken, you wizards. So far your master the devil has protected you,but now your hour has come. We have authority from those who rule thiscity and from the Church to summon you to surrender, and if you willnot, then to slay you both."
"That, you shameless friar," answered Hugh, "you have been striving todo these many days. Yet it is not we who have been slain, although westand but two men against a multitude. But if we surrender, what then?"
"Then you shall be put upon your trial, wizards, and, if found guilty,burned; if innocent, set free."
"Put upon our trial before our executioners! Why, I think those firesare alight already. Nay, nay, mad priest, go back and tell those whomyou have fooled that if they want us they can come and take us, whichthey'll not do living."
Then the furious friar began to curse them, hurling at them theanathemas of the Church, till at length Dick called to him to begone orhe would send an arrow to help him on the road.
So they went, and presently the sun sank.
"Now let us beware," said Dick. "The moon is near her full and will risesoon. They'll attack between times when we cannot see to shoot."
"Ay," answered Hugh, "moreover, now this gateway is no place for us. Ofarrows there are few left, nor could we see to use them in the dark.The stones too are all spent and therefore they can bridge the moat andbatter down the doors unharmed."
"What then?" asked Dick. "As we cannot fly, where shall we die?"
"On the roof of the old tower, I think, whence we can hurl ourselvesat last and so perhaps escape being taken alive, and torment. Look you,Dick, that tower is mounted by three straight flights of steps. Thefirst two of these we'll hold with such arrows as remain to us--thereare three and twenty, as I think--and the last with axe and sword.Listen! They come! Take a brand from the hall hearth and let us go lightthe flambeaux."
So they went and set fire to the great torches of wood and tallow thatwere set in their iron holders to light the steps of the tower. Ere thelast of them was burning they heard their enemies ravening without.
"Listen!" said Hugh as they descended to the head of the first flight ofstairs. "They are across the moat."
As he spoke the massive doors crashed in beneath the blows of a baulk oftimber.
"Now," said Hugh, as they strung their bows, "six arrows apiece here, ifwe can get off so many, and the odd eleven at our next stand. Ah, theycome."
The mob rushed into the hall below, waving torches and swords andhunting it as dogs hunt a covert.
"The English wizards have hid themselves away," cried a voice. "Let usburn the place, for so we are sure to catch them."
"Nay, nay," answered another voice, that of the mad friar. "We must havethem beneath the torture, that we may learn how to lift the cursefrom Avignon, and the names of their accomplices on earth and in hell.Search, search, search!"
"Little need to search," said Grey Dick, stepping out on to the landing."Devil, go join your fellow-devils in that hell you talk of," and hesent an arrow through his heart.
For a moment there followed the silence of consternation while the mobstood staring at their fallen leader. Then with a yell of rage theycharged the stair and that fray began which was told of in Avignonfor generations. Hugh and Dick shot their arrows, nor could they miss,seeing what was their target; indeed some of those from the great blackbow pinned foe to foe beneath them. But so crowded were the assailantson the narrow stair that they could not shoot back. They advancedhelpless, thrust to their doom by the weight of those who pressedbehind.
Now they were near, the dead, still on their feet, being borne forwardby the living, to whom they served as shields. Hugh and Dick ran to thehead of the second flight and thence shot off the arrows that remained.
Dick loosed the last of them, and of this fearful shaft it was said thatit slew three men, piercing through the body of one, the throat of thesecond and burying its barb in the skull of the third on the loweststep. Now Dick unstrung his bow, and thrust it into its case on hisshoulder, for he was minded that they should go together at the last.
"Shafts have sung their song," he said, with a fierce laugh; "now it isthe turn of the axe and sword to make another music."
Then he gripped Sir Hugh by the hand, saying:
"Farewell, master. Oh, I hold this a merry death, such as the Saintsgrant to few. Ay, and so would you were you as free as I am. Well,doubtless your lady has gone before. Or at worst soon she will followafter and greet you in the Gate of Death, where Murgh sits and keeps hiscount of passing souls."
"Farewell, friend," answered Hugh, "be she quick or dead, thus Red Evewould wish that I should die. _A Cressi! A Cressi!_" he cried and drovehis sword through the throat of a soldier who rushed at him.