Sir Nigel was
thrown down by the sheer weight of them, and Sir Bertrand with
his thunderous war-cry was swinging round his heavy sword to
clear a space for him to rise, when the whistle of two long
English arrows, and the rush of the squire and the two English
archers down the stairs, turned the tide of the combat. The
assailants gave back, the knights rushed forward, and in a very
few moments the hall was cleared, and Hordle John had hurled the
last of the wild men down the steep steps which led from the end
of it.
"Do not follow them," cried Du Guesclin. "We are lost if we
scatter. For myself I care not a denier, though it is a poor
thing to meet one's end at the hands of such scum; but I have my
dear lady here, who must by no means be risked. We have
breathing-space now, and I would ask you, Sir Nigel, what it is
that you would counsel?"
"By St. Paul!" answered Sir Nigel, "I can by no means understand
what hath befallen us, save that I have been woken up by your
battle-cry, and, rushing forth, found myself in the midst of this
small bickering.
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